


Revelations

by IronRaven



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adribug, Adrinette, DJWifi, F/M, Friendship/Love, Kwamilove, Marichat, Support, lead up to to something less drabbly, maybe even LadyNoir, old pain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2018-07-22 13:58:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 29,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7441879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IronRaven/pseuds/IronRaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What you think you see is only part of the story. Sometimes the best parts are hidden, not concealed but merely unseen. And when you see them, mysteries become known but often create new mysteries. There is much more to this story than just a few akuma and classes. For thousands of years, Tikki and Plagg have had their humans, and their humans have other humans that worry about them.</p><p>And I can no longer call these "drabbles". Drabbles are rarely serious. I'm always serious, even when I'm laughing. I have recently been reminded of this. So... they are vignettes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bones in the Desert

**Author's Note:**

> This is mostly a collection of short scenes. All pieces tie together, even if we have to wait to see how.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kwami were there when it all started. Long before Marinette and Adrien. The kwami and their humans, everyone keeps secrets. But secrets slip out, they always do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't consider the violence here to be "graphic", but it may be unsettling. 
> 
> Please forgive me my typos. I have posted historically at fanfiction.net, and may move this over there as well and migrate stuff to this location, but I haven't written anything in years. I'm rusty and out of practice, so it is NOT my best work. I only just found this series, and binged the first season in an afternoon. I like it, clearly, but I think the most interesting characters aren't the heroes but the kwami. But I needed to get this out of my head and pushed to the world so I could focus on other projects that absolutely need to be worked on right now.

Adrien raised his hand, the color of bronze, to shield his eyes as he look back the way they'd come. The cloud of dust was getting closer. He swore bitterly, brushing the dark hair from his forehead. They hadn't gone far enough, not by half, and the only hope he had was that the mounts of those behind them would bog down in the sand and buy them time to get to the river.

He looked the beautiful young woman who was already going down the other side of the dune. He knew she was, how could he not, but he'd never really _seen_ it. Unlike nearly every other man in the village he had not lusted after her. Well... not that much. He did have a pulse, after all, and he was pretty sure she could bring a mummy back from the dead. But it was her mind and her heart he'd really noticed.

That was why they were running. Her parents had promised her to the pharaoh's tax collector rather than see her be taken into slavery. She didn't want to marry the much older man. It had been very simple to break her from where she'd been held, and then start running. It was a day to the Nile. It might kill them, but she'd be free.

The only thing that hadn't gone as well in reality as it had in his head was that she'd seemed surprised and even a little disappointed that he had come for her. She'd been planning on escaping on her own in a little bit. That was very much like her, though. Best of all, he hadn't had to show his secret identity. If this went really well, he wouldn't have to, and his secret would be a secret.

For a little while.

They ran. He was tired. They ran more. The sun was hot. They ran. And the cloud of dust was closer. They were being driven to death, the poor beasts, but the chariots had been slowed as she'd hoped. That was where it had gotten weird. He'd broken her out, but hadn't had a plan after that. Of course she had a plan, she always had a plan, just like his true love.

His true love was one of the people's heroes. Just like he was. He'd never told his closest friends- he didn't know who she really was, and it didn't matter. And he hadn't told his father, the tax collector.

They ran. They could see the trees along the river now. They could hear the horses. She stopped, eyes going wide. Her hair was shorter than fashionable, but for a baker's daughter it made sense. It was so black it gleamed with blue shadows, just like his love's did.

The horses were very close. “RUN!” He tried to make it a scream, but he was breathing to hard, it came out a rattling rasp.

She didn't. Instead she grabbed him, pulling him down and rolling with him as a mace whistled through the spot his head had just occupied. They could hear the chariot coming around. He looked up at her, realization dawning. But as with the first light of any new day, it wasn't bright enough to see clearly, misty. She didn't freeze, she threw him down the dune, and followed with a cry that he could only barely hear- it sounded like 'Tikki!'. What did that mean?

He landed at the bottom with a sick thud. He gasped, then he felt a pair of familiar hands on his face, and a very familiar, acid tongued voice. His friend. He looked towards her in concern, but the little white feline had other ideas, roaring like a pocket sized lion. “She knows, kid! Now say it! Or you'll die!”

He'd spent years keeping this secret from her. From their friends. From his father. “Plagg- claws out!”

Hunger, thirst, soreness, they were gone in a flash of light. He felt the kwami shift, swirling around him, encasing him in flowing white robes worthy of a priest but without the gold and gems.

And he was more awake than ever. His lady friend, the girl he'd called Princess a thousand time, she was gone. The lithe, powerful form of the Moon Cat's partner had replaced her, the Red Scarab. She smirked, the smile lifting the red and black khol around her blue eyes into a second smile. “So... that's where you've been running of to all these years.”

“Oh we are having such a talk.” He looked at his best friend, his partner in heroism, the woman he'd loved for years. He reached out, finding his staff where it was whenever he transformed. Plagg had refused to tell him where it went when he was the Cat, said he wasn't ready for that kind of magic.

The chariot was about to roll over him. Ladybug made a simple 'after you' gesture with his hand. With a grin, he twirled away. The tip of his staff jabbed at the spoked wheel, slamming against the frame of the chariot, then shattering the axle. He had been expecting it and rode the other end of his staff into the air as forces involved spilled the charioteer and the pharaoh's tax collector.

Ladybug closed fast. She'd actually like the rather primitive looking charioteer and bodyguard. A mute, he'd been kind as possible when he was directed to perform his master's bidding, even it was to scourge man. She'd never known what threat was hung over the big ape, and she'd never have another time to ask. A sharp kick to the jaw ended their part of the disagreement.

Cat hadn't been actively aware of it, even though he'd seen the red moving on the edge of his vision. At the top of the arc, he'd left his staff, twisting in air to land on his feet and atop the tax collector. He hissed loudly. “She isn't yours, Father!”

\----LBCN---

Adrien Argest sat up in bed, drenched in sweat. He was so thirsty, he felt like he'd been on a force run through the desert for hours. He grabbed at the water bottle on his nightstand, chugging it dry in seconds, even trying to force his tongue into it for the last few drops. He'd get more, but first he had to catch his breath.

“Wow. Weird dream.”

“Mrngggg...” The little black cat shape on the other pillow raised his head. “I'm sleeping here.”

“Sorry Plagg. Nightmare.” Without thinking Adrien reached down, scritching between his kwami's ears. “It was in Egypt.”

“Ah. No cheese. Wasn't much of a dream.”

“Oh, come on. You've been in Egypt. What was it like?”

“Boring. No cheese. Too much sun. Sand in my fur. Bed time.” The blackness stretched, trying to curl up to sleep again.

“You were there.”

“Hmmhmmm.... couple times.” The fingers on his ears were helping Plagg get back to sleep.

“No, in my dream. Weird thing was... you were white.”

Plagg sat up. No, he didn't sit. He had been flat and then he was instantly upright. And not sitting. “What did just you say?”

“You were white.” Adrien's eyes were wide. Plagg grumpy, he'd seen that. Sleepy. Hungry. Even angry, nose to nose and screaming at him. But this looked like fear. “What does that mean?”

“I used to be white. A long time ago. Egypt, most of africa, much of asia, that's the color of death. Not black.” Plagg's eyes were wide. _How the hell did he see that?_

“Plagg... what's wrong? Is there something I need to know about?” Adrien had a sinking feeling.

“Nothing. It's just been a long time.” The black cat settled back down onto the pillow. He felt very old very suddenly. He'd been there when the universe had fit in a thimble- that loud noise wasn't his fault, that was Vixx and Wayzz's fault, they'd been showing off in front of Nooroo and Ms Prettyfeathers. He'd been talking with Tikki, he'd wanted to say something really important. Then the others tipped over that thing and there was this really big bang.... “Stay out of my head, kid. It isn't a happy place.”

Adriene was quietly stroking his friend. They'd never quite settled who was the sidekick of whom. Plagg absolutely refused to be considered a magic charm. The blond knew that his black suit was actually Plagg; he'd found that out the first time he'd passed gas suited up. One of them couldn't handle cheese. Plagg was oddly quiet for a very long time before looking up. “You weren't you, in that dream, were you?”

“No. And Ladybug was there, but she wasn't herself.”

“No, she was. She's always been what she is, but she'd had a lot of good humans. Was it the baker's daughter?”

“Yeah, why?” Just saying that made him think of one of his best friends. Other than Plagg he only had three. He was friendly with a lot of people, but he didn't really have a chance to know any of them. Ok, maybe Chloe, but he'd have to stretch the truth.

Plagg purred. “She was a really good Ladybug. One of the best.”

“Was I that Cat? Is it reincarnation?”

“What? No, you guys die, you're done. Some of the Cats have had dreams about the past, other Cats. It's not a big deal. You aren't them, weren't them. They aren't you. You need to be you. You're Chat Noir.” Plagg looked down, sheepishly. He'd tried to tell his boy that months ago, but Adrien had just wanted to suit up and be a hero. He'd done pretty well for someone who wouldn't listen and was a little late in caring about history.

“The other Cats- they died. With you.”

There was a sigh. He'd had this conversation with every Cat. Most of them freaked out a bit afterwards. “Usually. When the time comes, I'm going to take as much of it as I can for you, but enough pain and even I break.” The little figure seemed slightly smaller.

“But you won't die.”

“No. I can't die like you can." There was another sigh, almost a sob, but Adrien couldn't believe that such a noise could come from Plagg. "I can get hurt.” His voice was tiny and hollow. “We can get hurt a lot... Don't, don't think about it. If the time ever comes, I won't let you suffer, I'll make sure it's quick. Now go to sleep- you've got school in the morning.”

Adrien picked up his companion. Plagg had said something like that before. _All the way to the grave._ At the time, the young man hadn't thought anything about it until now. Adrien had a bad feeling that he'd woken up before he could die in his dream. Or before he'd killed his... father? He couldn't ask Plagg that. Some things he didn't want to know. Plagg wasn't normally one for being touched other than some petting but the little kwami let himself be held. That told Adrien everything he needed to know.

One, the conversation was over.

Two, it was great to be Chat Noir, but not all the time. Sometimes it sucked. Like right now.

And now he knew that being a kwami sucked even more. Maybe not more on daily basis, but certainly for longer. He wanted to know how much hurt his friend had seen, even if he couldn't take it away. Maybe that was why the cat was grumpy and bitter and snarky all the time. Maybe it wasn't the physical pain. Maybe it was millennium after millennium of losing his humans.

Adrien looked at the clock. It would be daylight soon. Maybe he'd sleep a little, but Plagg needed it more. He held the little spirit in his arms, the kwami mewling in his sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, white is the color of mourning in most of east Asia, and in must of the world. It seems the greeks were the first ones to think up black as the color of death, and the northern Europeans made it stick. So if Plagg really is entropy personified, most of history would have seen him as a white cat.


	2. The Heat of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you wear a Kwami, some of their memories wear off. It isn't just a Cat thing.
> 
> The warning about not-graphic-just-unsettling still stands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clearly, this was inspired by the not so subtle implication that Jeanne d'Arc was ridden by the Ladybug. I remember my history. And you can love someone so much you hurt them.

Marinette struggled in the ropes. She had been brave at first. Challenging them. She hadn't believed it was really going to happen until just a few hours ago.

That was when she'd told her companion to go, to run away. To find someone else. She'd sobbed, pleading, praying for her friend to leave her. She'd cursed the best friend she'd ever had. Told Tikki she didn't love the bug any more. Renounced her. Now Marinette was alone. They were leading her out of the cell. She refused to struggle. They lifted her up and bound her to the stake. And then they started stacking wood around it.

She closed her eyes. She could smell the smoke. She could feel the heat. She coughed. She screamed. She was burning. She was burning. She shrieked.

 

\---lbcn---

 

Tikki exploded into wakefulness as Marinette thrashed in the bed, wrapping herself up in the sheets. She'd seen that face before. Heard those screams before. Tikki wanted to scream herself as she tried to get her human to wake up. “Wake up, Marinette! Now... please, sweetie. Wake up!”

The trap door from below banged open, the burly body of Tom Dupan hurling itself through the opening. Tikki didn't want to move, but she had to. She hurled herself under the small collection of stuffed animals as Marinette's father skipped the ladder up to the bed loft entirely and just pulled himself up the joist to the roof- two decades of hoisting flour sacks heavier than his daughter mixed well with adrenaline as his little girl screamed in her sleep. He pulled her into his arms, his heart racing and his mind filled with terror. _She was alone, she was ok, it had to be a dream._

After a moment, the girl woke up. “Papa....” She threw her arms around him and sobbed. She was babbling she'd been on fire. What had she done? They were burning her. Marinette didn't know when her mother joined them, she just felt both her parent's holding her. It was getting crowded on the bed. She felt the plush figures behind her, and felt one of them taking her finger in it's hand. She calmed down after a couple of minutes.

“I'm sorry. I just had a nightmare.”

“I'd say- you were screaming about a fire.” Tom had his weaknesses. Seeing his little girl getting hurt was one of them. Not being able to protect her was another. Hearing her cry was a third. Most of his weaknesses here about Marinette or Sabine.

Sabine rubbed her daughter's back. “Can you get back to sleep? You should try. Do you need something? Warm milk? Tea? Cookies?”

Marinette smiled weakly. Her chest was still pounding and she felt sticky and sweaty and the last thing she wanted was a shower or tea or anything hot, she wanted winter. She wanted freeze a little. She could remember her dream, the flames licking at her, and then Tikki appeared. Shielded her from the flames, but only so far. She didn't burn.

She'd baked inside of a Ladybug shell.

After a while, her parents went back to bed. She couldn't sleep. Not yet. But she had to be sure they were in bed before she could ask for answers. “Tikki?”

“I'm here.” The red kwami floated out from her hiding place. She hadn't wanted to hide, but she had to. She knew what had gone wrong. She knew what Marinette had been dreaming about. And that was the last time anyone but the Guardian and maybe the other Holders would ever, _ever_ see her and her humans together. It had been her fault, she hadn't been careful last time “Are you... alright?”

“I dreamed I was a dungeon. And I told you to go. That I didn't love you any more. And then they...” Marinette sucked back a sob. It was the worst nightmare she'd ever had.

“I know. I'm sorry, sweetie. I”m so, so, so sorry. You shouldn't have seen that.” She hugged her arms around her human's head, stroking the crow black hair. “I'm sorry. I think you met Joan”

Marinette hiccuped with her tears, nodding. She'd known since the first day that the women who'd preceded her included Joan de'Arc. Who'd been burned at the stake.

“Shhh... it was just a dream. Let your mind clear, think of something happy. Like Adrien and Alya and your parents and cookies and a cool rain on your skin at the end of a hot day....”

Marinette eventually stopped crying and fell asleep again. Tikki stroked her hair, watching out the window even as it started to get light out. She glanced at the calendar.

Tikki didn't like this calendar any more than she had some of the others humans had come up with. It wasn't needed. The moon was full and you went out and looked at the land in silver moonlight; it got skinny until you couldn't see it and you looked at the stars; then it fattened itself back up. The sun always rose and you woke up with it, and you ate when you were hungry, and you worked when it was needed and you stopped when it was done, and you laughed and loved as much as you could, and you slept when you were tired. Seasons came and every one of them was beautiful. Putting numbers and names on everything didn't make it less beautiful. But one date she knew: May 30.

May 30, 1431. The English had captured her human, Joan. Joan had been one of the very best partners Tikki had ever had. So very brave and caring. And because someone had heard them talking, it made her a witch. That and wearing pants. At Tikki's suggestion.

It had been Tikki's fault. She'd made a mistake, she had been careless.

Tikki had left, Joan had told her to go. But she hadn't gone. She'd sat in a tree and watched and avoided spiders. And they brought her human out and lit her on _fire!_ When Joan started to scream, Tikki couldn't not do something. She'd flown in, forced the miraculous into place. And Joan wouldn't say it. Tikki had said it. It wasn't something that she should have done. It was a mistake. It had crippled Joan's ability to resist, it could destroy a human's body and it did end the bond once this last link was over. Joan had resisted her- she'd wanted to die, to prove to the English she wasn't this _thing_ they claimed, she could do more for justice by letting it happen and becoming a martyr. That was what Joan had accepted.

Tikki had mostly kept her alive. That was why they had to build the fire three times. The third time, someone had come for her. Not for Joan, they'd come for Tikki. He'd had to shock her to get her to let go. He'd... he'd done what was needed. The beautiful, brave leader was gone, by then Joan was just... a thing that could feel pain. He'd taken away the suffering that Tikki had forced on her human, trying to keep her safe. It wasn't to keep Joan safe, it was because Tikki wouldn't let go.

That had always been her problem. She could be alone, but she didn't like it. When she found a human she loved, she tried to keep them alive too long. Sometimes they suffered for it. Even as they loved her. She tried to protect them, but she... wasn't very good at it.

And it wasn't only the humans she'd hurt.

It had been her best friend who'd saved her. Abandoned his human, flown a quarter the way around the planet and nearly depleting his magic in the process. No more magic, no more kwami. It was that simple. That was how they could die. But he'd said that if there was no more Tikki, there was no more world worth saving. So he'd had to come for her.

He told her he loved her. Not “if it's cute, sniff it- it it likes that, pounce it”, not “you're my friend and immortality would be boring without you”. That he loved her. Since the start of this universe, before. He was in love with her. He'd grabbed her by her antennae and screamed it, pulling her out of the flames.

The sunlight glittered on Tikki's cheeks as she thought about him. She was careful not to let her tears fall on her human. She could hear him so close almost every day, and he was beautiful riding his human. Their humans were a good match this time, they'd spend a lot of time together once those two figured it out. And they would find Nooroo together, and free their friend from whomever or whatever was controlling the butterfly. And if they were lucky, they'd find the peacock as well, whom Nooroo had gone looking for. But first Nooro.

But every time she saw him, she felt guilty. He'd forgiven her. He'd been gruff about it. It was his way, and she was pretty sure he hurt, but he'd never admit it. The lord of chaos and master of destruction didn't admit to a lot of things, not outloud. He told her it wasn't her fault, it was his choice and he'd do it again if he had to. That she should forget about it.

But she would never be able to forget. She remembered the smell of his fur burning as he saved her. He was a black cat because of her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who missed it in history class, they burned Jeanne d'Arc three times over a course of several days, and made sure there was no bone fragments intact. Admittedly, this is the kind of brain that gave us the death of Edward II of England, but after a couple of days, you're either sure someone you've burned at the stake is dead, or you have reason to make very, very sure.


	3. Standing a Long Watch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets lead to secrets, and sleepless nights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Secrets are often needed. Despite this, they weigh heavily on the soul. The good ones most of all. And they breed new secrets. And the worst thing about secrets is they eventually lead to lies. And laying awake at night.

Tom Dupain was half asleep, maybe two thirds, sitting in the corner formed by the wall and his and Sabine's bed. He had scooted his tailbone forward, so his weight rested as much on his shoulders and head as on his legs. It was not the most comfortable position in the world, and after the full day in the bakery, it wasn't very restful. In bed, where he knew logically he should be, Sabine breathed slowly, her arm sprawled over where he should be. But he couldn't go to bed all the way, not yet. 

He didn't know why all this was happening. He remembered the first time Ladybug had been on television. He'd dropped a cup of hot coffee in his lap when he watched her making her speech at the Eiffel Tower. Sabine hadn't believed him, not at first, when he asked were their daughter was. Sabine had accused him of being a romantic and watching too many movies and playing too many video games. Of course that couldn't be Marinette, no chance, their daughter was 14, she was in school, she was a bit of a clutz. She was even a little soft- not pudgy, but that kind of strength and acrobatics, no, that wasn't Marinette. 

Then he noticed Marinette just wasn't a little squishy when hugged- his daughter had abs! When had that happened? She was still clumsy sometimes- a few days after it all started she'd pulled a tray of croissants from the oven and tripped over thin air. Somehow she'd also caught herself on the edge of the counter with her hip and danced herself in a circle to get the tray under the croissants , all of them, catching the entire batch. They weren't as fluffy as normal, but they were salable. But that was only part of it. He'd asked her to grab him a few bags of flour from the back- two of them weighed at least much as she did. She would have had to slide one from the stack, onto the cart, wheel it in and then get help to pick it up or leave it there for him on the cart, it was ok. But he'd had to go help a customer with a special order, she hadn't seen him coming back when she just blithely tossed a bag from her shoulder to the counter, then the other- he could do it, but Mari? Then she saw him and she brought the next two in with the cart- but she hadn't asked for help. He was a gamer, he knew a level-up when he saw it.

Add in the missing cookies (Sabine was convinced at first it was a growth spurt), the fatigue (also a growth spurt), and the slight drop in grades (discovering boys!), and there had been a conversation between him and his wife. They were going to be supportive parents, they weren't going to panic. He reused the “you're getting older, someone might want you to drink too much or offer you drugs” speech his dad had given him. She hadn't evaded, she'd listened, and told him he had nothing to worry about. Sabine had won the coin flip- she got to have the fun conversion about boys, and if Mari was into girls they were fine with that and they were supportive and Alya was pretty cute.... He'd listened in from the kitchen, it had flown straight into awkwardness, and stayed there as Marinette had slowly turned the color of a raspberry. The comment about Alya had actually knocked her over with a cry of "Mom! Noooo! I like boys!" and hands being clapped over ears. And she wasn't really getting taller. 

But once that blog was up, and the photos started being posted, it was very, very hard for Sabine to believe what she was still saying. Ladybug was the same height. Ladybug's ears were the same. Her eyes. They even walked the same. And they had the same voice. Their little girl had someone turned into a superhero. 

He'd wanted to talk to her. They weren't going to try to stop her, she was doing good work, but they could help her. Right? Somehow? Sabine had asked, rather practically, how he proposed to do that. He didn't have anything resembling an answer, just the belief that he was her dad and he had to do something. He'd honestly expected his wife to do something she'd never done, not once, in their relationship, which was to rub his nose in something. Most fathers read traditional stories to their daughters at bed time, and he had. Sometimes. He also told ones about the sleeping prince and how only the kiss from his true love could break the spell he was under, said true love being a lady knight. He'd read to her storied from myth, all over the world, stories of heroism and honor. Including the modern American stories, their superheroes. “With great power comes great responsibility.” Stories where the good guys always hid from their loved ones, to protect everyone, and where a lonely vigil against madness and cruelty was the responsibility of greatness. 

Sabine had never told him this was his fault. And it probably wasn't. But he'd also wanted to know how? Was she bitten by a radioactive ladybug? Had she found some magic ring just laying in the gutter, or maybe it had been given to her by a dying alien? Toxic waste spill? He was pretty sure she wasn't adopted from another world, of that was much he was confident in. But Sabine had told him “no” when he wanted to talk to Marinette and ask what was happening. He'd been the father who'd converted the attic to a bedroom for her, and installed a lock on the trapdoor up to her bedroom. He'd even made sure she could pull the latter to the door up if she really wanted- there were a couple bolts there, but they didn't really do anything but make sure the ladder couldn't accidentally fall over, it would take five minutes to get them undone. His wife had reminded him that he told Marinette that he trusted her to make her own decisions. 

So he had to trust her. Trust was an all or nothing matter of faith. Marinette would tell them when it was time for her to know they knew. 

Until then they knew about her hobby. If it became a real problem, they would talk to her. Somehow. How do you tell a superhero, no, you grades come before the safety of your city? 

At least it wasn't that lonely for her. There had been plenty of pictures of her and her partner. Tom was morally convinced this Chat Noir boy was just a friend. Sabine had just giggled and gotten some pictures taken by friends before she'd gotten so sick of his puns and his flirting that she'd just asked him out. Ladybug and her boyfriend had the same kind of body language in the photos taken of them when they weren't fighting an akuma. There were stories, about how he'd blocked hits meant for her with his body. With his face even. That boy probably didn't even know he was in love with her yet. Sabine had patted his shoulder and told him to stop worrying. They could make it worse by butting, not help. 

He was still her father, though. So he did what little he could. 

This spot where he sat, he was leaned against one of the main timbers of the house. The attic door could be opened quietly, but it could not be closed quietly and a person landing on the roof banged just the same as the door. There was thud that ran all the way down to the foundation when either happened. So he'd sleep here, sorta, until he felt the house jump and tell him she was home. 

That she was safe. That she was going to bed. 

That he could go to bed. The alarm would be going off in a few hours- it would be time to make the croissants soon enough. 

It was almost one. He looked at his wife's hand before reaching for it, taking it in his. He hoped everything was ok.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And just a little ways away, how little does Gabriel's soul weigh?


	4. Compatable points of view

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alya woke up to something brushing her ear. It got cuter from there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't picked on Alya or Nino yet. 
> 
> Still trying to get Gabriel to not sound super evil.

Alya woke up to something brushing her ear, and found she couldn't move. It wasn't a bad couldn't move, it was warm, but it's wasn't what she'd been expected.

Blinking, she looked over what was nuzzling her ear and why did her neck feel wet? Nino was asleep, his nose against her ear and.... was he drooling in his sleep? Right on her neck. It was pooling in the hollow behind her clavicle. Eww... Kinda cute, but mostly ewww. He did look different without his glasses on. They helped to distract from his ears normally- those were big for his head.

Were they dating? She wasn't sure. He though they were. She thought they were. But he hadn't kissed her yet. She liked him, more than she had thought they would before Ladybug locked them in a cage. She wanted him to the make the next move, be manly and say something, do something. Kiss her. Even just a peck on the cheek. Or hug her from behind and nuzzle her ear. Without drooling.

And now the drool was getting colllld....

She palmed his forehead and pushed gently. He slept through being flopped back. With his head hanging over the edge of the couch, he started to snore. Drooling and snoring... Alya wasn't sure she could wake up to that every morning for the rest of her life. Even if he looked a little better fuzzy.

Someone had taken off her glasses to. Or maybe she had and didn't remember. She spotted two pairs on the table with their phones. She got lucky, finding hers by feel, putting them on. That was better, now she could see. There was a box of tissues on the table as well- she pulled several from the box and used them to mop up the saliva on her neck before it could run down her chest.

She looked him again. Actually, he wasn't quite so goofy looking. Ok, the ears still stood out, but maybe that was their protest to being under earphones so often. He was loosing some of the roundness in his cheeks. She blushed as she imagined him with a bit of beard scruff, his face a little more angular. Grow his hair out, maybe into a ponytail. Maybe he'd let her even put it into a top knot sometimes. Yeah, she'd kiss that. Shaking her head, she muttered at herself “wake up, girl.”

She sat up, looking around the apartment. She couldn't hear her sisters. Which means they were up to something. And the television was off. And she didn't remember the blanket being over them. They'd been watching television while she was watching her sisters. They both must have nodded off. She tried to unwrap herself from the blanket as she stood up, but her feet were tangled.

She'd been trying really hard not to wake him, but physics didn't care. With her center of gravity beyond her feet, she failed to catch herself. To his credit, he didn't scream when she landed on him. He did grunt, and woke up a little cross eyed. “Hmm... hi, babe.”

She blushed, her skin darkening. “Hi. We fell asleep, and I don't know where the little monsters are.”

That brought him fully awake. He like Alya's family, and the smallest of it were likely to do something without thinking. “Thats not cool. Glasses?”

She twisted, freeing herself from the blanket. Oh, she knew what they'd done. Her sisters had covered them with the blanket when the two fell asleep, hoping, maybe, just maybe, their mom would catch her sleeping with a boy. Even if only in the literal sense. So they'd tucked the tails of the blanket into the frame of the couch. Hopefully there were no pictures. She kicked herself free, freeing them both from the fabric, flipping it back from the both of them.

“So... Alya. Why are you wearing my glasses?”

“What?” She looked at him. Those were her frames in his hand. But she could see fine. She pulled the pair she was wearing off. Those were his frames. “I didn't notice.”

He laughed, trading glasses with her. They were both chuckling as they put on the right frames. It was an easy enough mistake to make, their style was similar. He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them. Yep, everything looked right. They looked the same.

Alya was blushing. They had the same prescription. That meant they saw things the same way.

The thought came to her. Not like a bolt from the sky. More like a mist, floating through her brain. Maybe she wasn't the only one waiting for the other to make the first move.

“Hey, Nino.”

“hmmm?”

She waited for his head to turn, the humming grunt of inquiry in his throat before she took his cheeks in her hands. He froze, his eyes wide as she leaned in. His hands flailed, unsure of how to react without direction from his brain, which locked up as her nose bumped against his. It was just a tentative kiss, almost curious, then she pulled back. That was when he remembered he was an animal. A mammal. A primate. Human. An evolved, thinking, feeling human. Specifically, a male sample of the species. And she was a female sample of the species. And she'd made the next move. And she tasted good. His arms wrapped around her waist as his lips chased hers. Found hers. The second kiss was longer. It wasn't a question, it wasn't curious. It was a statement. Her arms went around his neck, crossing behind his head. The third kiss was a little longer, her commentary on his answer to her first question. They each rolled their head left, letting the other side of their noses rub. Her chin dropped, letting her nip at his lower lip. That couldn't go unchallenged. His tounge flicked out on it's own, tasting her lips gloss. His hands started to move a little lower as her fingers scratched gently as his scalp, frustrated by it's shortness when they really wanted to curl in his hair.

There was a flash of light. A giggle. They pulled apart as if by yanked on leashes. There was more laughing from Alya's sisters.

“Give me that camera!”

“Hey, not cool rugrats!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So few comments. Comment, really. Am I totally failing with the characters? 
> 
> Kudos are nice, comments are love.


	5. Overdue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You spend eternity together. You spend every day right next to each other. And the rules of the game say you can't see each other. Ever. Not until your wards figure things out on their own. Breaking this rule could endanger everything. 
> 
> When everything includes civilzation, what does it take to break the rules?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously, this is set right after or at least shortly after the Volpina incident.

Wayzz sipped at the tea in his thimble sized cup while he an Master Fu read the book. Where it had come from, they couldn't say. This document was not supposed to exist. This meant that a Miraculous Holder had written down everything. Not only that, but while there was magic in the pages it was secured in way that even if you understood the language, you couldn't read everything. Even he was in there! This went so against the way things were supposed to be done. It wasn't safe, this endangered everything. But that wasn't the worst thing. “Master...”

“I know that tone. You think I'm making a mistake by keeping it.”

“We have to send it back from whence it came. It's absence will be detected, and that endangers... You know.” The turtle kwami glanced over where Tikki's girl sat, trying to do homework and just staring off into space. 

“What do you suggest?”

“First, we need your camera. We need a lot of pictures of every page.”

Master Fu smiled. The wisdom he'd acquired from his little friend was at least as great as that which he'd learned on his own. He understood that the connection between holder and kwami made them both greater. He could see that by looking at Marinette, thinking about how she'd looked and moved just a few months ago when he'd selected her and the boy. That the two children were smitten with each other and didn't know it just made him appreciate Wayzz' instincts even more. “And then we send it back.”

“Yes, Master. We can give it Chat directly, or....” The immortal being of deceptive size smiled into his tea. The only problem with humans is they were too short lived- his boy was coming along nicely.

“Or we have Tikki give it to Plagg tomorrow while no one is looking. That might be best.”

Wayzz nodded. “Yes, Master, that is just what I was thinking.” Yes, learning well. 

Master Fu leaned back from the book, looking at his companion with a grin that at first glance shaved a few generations off his face. “Marinette, thank you for staying.”

The young lady looked up from her trigonometry text book and paper. “Master Fu?” He'd tried to send her home, but she'd insisted on staying as long as she could without being late for dinner. Master Fu had insisted on keeping the book, but she had to get it back to Adrien. Somehow. Without looking like she'd stolen it. OK, maybe Tikki had taken it from the trash, but there was no they could just hand it to Adrien in the morning. And while Ladybug could drop it off tonight, there were a lot of question that would be asked and she didn't want to answer any of them. 

“This book is extremely dangerous, but if it is found to be missing, the person who had it will know something has happened. It is entirely possible they don't know what is special about this book. You say your friend Adrien had it.”

“Yes, sir, but it was stolen and the thief tried to throw it away and I saved it.” Which they'd already gone over. 

“Do you think Tikki could get it to your friend somehow, secretly, tomorrow morning?”

“We can try. Let me ask her.” Marinette leaned over to stroke the dome of her kawami's head. It had been a long day for Tikki, who had eaten her fill of almond cookies and was now sleeping with her head pillowed on the two she hadn't had room for. “Tikki? Wake up.”

“Time to go already?”

Master Fu sat next to Marinette while Wayzz settled to the arm of the couch next to his fellow spirit. “Time to plan.”

“Oh? Is there something bad in that book.”

Wayzz shook himself. “Most of it. But it has to go back to this friend of yours, so he can put it back where it came from.”

“Master Fu, Adrien doesn't know I have the book. If I just give it to him in class tomorrow isn't that going to look suspicious?”

“That, Ladybug, is why I'm not going to ask you to give the book back. Tikki, do you think you can get it into this boy's locker or school bag?” Master Fu looked hopeful. He was pretty sure which of her classmates Marinette had referred to. He'd seen Adrien talking with that girl who'd been the false Volpina. He was going to have to send Plagg a note with this thing. 

Tikki giggled, nodding. “Marinette, could just put your bag behind your feet so it can't be seen? I'll phase through you and put it into Adrien's bag, no trouble. Like when I helped you steal his cell phone.”

There was a tiny clatter as if a tiny cup was dropped, followed by a not so tiny cry of shock. “TIKKI! YOU DID WHAT?”

\----LBCN

Marinette shook her head. Her ears were still aching from Wayzz's screaming last night. The turtle kwami had been incensed, but Tikki said it was ok- her friend had been super straight laced since before they “invented humans”. Sometimes Marinette wondered about her kwami. 

She woke up to Tikki's hands tapping lightly but quickly at the tip of her nose, mewling more like a cat than any insect, while her phone sounded the alarm. “Marinette! Turn it ooooffffffffff!”

“I'm up. I'm up.” She killed her alarm, then sat up. That killed the glare from Tikki who was used to her human going back to sleep. Stretching, Marinette breathed in the scents of the bakery where her parents had been working for hours. She didn't know how they did it- probably going to bed before nine helped. “Did you think about when you're going to do it?”

“Chemistry class. Miss Mendeleiev makes everyone keep their bags under the benches so they can't be tripped over.”

Marinette smacked her lips sleepily, stretching before padding over to her dresser to choose her outfit for the day. Tight jeans. The black top she'd finished the previous weekend, the one that used the same pattern as her mother's favorite dresses. “I'll be back with breakfast.” 

\----LBCN

Tikki spent the day looking through as much of the book as she could from inside Marinette's bag. There were old friends here. Some that Fu didn't know about- they'd died before his first recorded ancestor was born. She didn't envy Wayzz explaining all of this to his student. She liked Fu, he was a nice boy. 

Not as nice as Marinette. Dark chocolate and macadamia nut had been the previous day's cookie of the day at the bakery. Tikki didn't mind them a day old. The only trouble she had was Marinette's bookbag- it was bigger than the purse she normally hid in and she had been poked in a sensitive place with a pen twice already. 

Ah, there was the acid tones of the science and math teacher's voice. Give it a few minutes for everyone's feet to stop moving. Tikki had to fight hard to keep from giggling- she should have thought of this months ago, but they had a job to do. No matter how annoyed she was with him, o r how much she missed him, she had to maintain Ladybug's partner's cover as much as she did Marinette's. She wasn't ready for Plagg's boy to know everything. 

Or Marinette, if everything was everything. There were things they were going to have to learn on their own. 

She peeked out of the bag- right where it was supposed to be. She heft the tome and focused on her solidity before zipping over to Adrien's bag, pulling the book after herself. 

She felt the reaction inside, smelled the fear from her partner. Her best friend. The one who was her equal and opposite in almost every way. Who she was annoyed with at the moment.

Green eyes blinked at her. “Tik-”

Her hand pushed up on his jaw, closing his mouth as she hissed “Plagg, shut your cheesehole!” Oh yeah, she was annoyed. “Did you lose something?”

“Hmp! Mm-hmm-phr gr duh?” 

“So you know where this goes. Good! Tell Adien you found it and then put it back where it came from. And you need to introduce him to Fu this week. ”

The cat kwami nodded. 

“Good.” She moved her fingers form his chin, reaching up scratch around the base of the antenna on top of his head. “You need to be more careful. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I miss you so much.”

The scolding she so wanted to give to him disappeared. “I miss you to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes. I ship Plagg-Tiki. Pliki? I don't know what to call it. 
> 
> Then again, I'm a lot like Plagg, so I'm probably just hoping that annoying little bugger gets himself a girl.


	6. Sound of silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you learn what you thought you wanted to know. And sometimes you discover, on reflection, you don't really want to know it. You want to give the information back, and take it out of your mind. You were happier not knowing. You don't want to know any more. 
> 
> But the mind doesn't work like that. And when you get used to it, you know that you've learned a new language. Not deception. Not honesty. You now speak silence.

“Hi, Mama? I'm at Alya's. We're studying.... Yes, yes, we're ok. I just wanted to say I might be late for dinner. I know Mom, it's the third time in two weeks.... Love you, to.” Marinette set her phone down with a sigh. That conversation had gone about as planned. Better. She was waiting for them to say something, but other than telling her that she should be able to make it to school on time because they were right across the street they were freakishly ok with her odd schedule. Her parents weren't as worried as they should seem in her opinion. She had a nagging feeling that something was wrong, but Tikki had cautioned her several times that over thinking leads to andxiety and paranoia and making mistakes. 

“My mom says 'hi, Alya'.” Marinette looked over her friend's shoulder. “If this is important, I can study this by myself.”

Alya turned away from her computer where she was working on her blog. “Sorry. I had to set up post monitoring in the forum. Too many creeps.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know how I get fan art. Well... some if it isn't for young eyes. And there have been some real sicko fantasies- not 'Ladybug, tie me up and spank me like a naughty puppy' or 'Chat Noir is so sexy, I want to peal him like a black leather banana and lick him all over'. That I could deal with. There are some seriously messed up people on the internet.”

At first, Matinette blushed, then she went pale. “R-really?”

“The kind of stuff where mere mortals go to hell if they read it. Fortunately, I'm an angel so I can take it.” Alya waited for the snickering to die down. “Besides, it lets me run the blog a little better. I just need like five minutes or so.”

“Okay.” Marinette debated getting out her phone, but it was in her purse. With Tikki. As much as Tikki liked her blogger friend, Alya made the kwami cautious. She knew the sprite would not be sleeping, but listening intently. “So it is like the forums about... say... sewing. Or models.”

“More like the ones about models. You can't see the forums without signing up. All posts are reviewed by management until you've had 10 approved; can't start a new thread until you've make 20 posts without approval. Also helps keep out the crazies. Like this one, KwamiMommy- she thinks Chat is her son and she's just so proud. Nope, Chat's mother wouldn't be gushing like this in public, she'd be keeping his secret if she knew it. Delete. Where or what is 'kwami'?”

Marinette's purse fell over softly on the bed as the young hero blinked. “So... do you keep track of who people are?”

“Sure, everything is recorded, but she's just weird. I've got a email that I send ones like her, asking if they would be willing to risk the lives of a loved on if what they say is true. I give the IP numbers of the real freak shows to my host, they take care of it from there. But I like it better this way. Hmmm...” Alya turned turned her chair around, looking intently at her raven haired friend.

“Alya?”

“Marinette, can you keep a secret? A real secret?”

“Uhmm... Is this about you and Nino? I don't know if I want to know.” The question just made her uncomfortable. In fact, Marinette was thinking she didn't need help with her English homework that badly... "Oh god, you aren't pregnant! Are you?"

Alya smiled oddly, shaking her head. “No.” She leaned forward, putting her hands on Marinette's knees. “Something really important. Maybe not the end of the world or Ladybug's identity, but still important.” Marinette felt the blood draining out of her head as her internal organs rearranged themselves alphabetically. It was an unpleasant sensation. She was speechless as her ombre-haired friend continued. “This would be like Chat Noir's identity.”

“Hey! He's just as important as Ladybug!”

“I'm not saying he's not, but there are a lot of people who want to know who she is. Without her, he's just a hero, like an non-evil akuma victim. She's the one who purifies the akuma. Whoever Hawkmoth is, he's probably scared of her. Chat's her partner, and her bodygaurd- without him she wouldn't be able to save the day. And I'm pretty sure he likes to guard her body, if you know what I mean.” Alya wiggled her eyebrow and leered playfully in her best Chat impression as all the blood rushed back up into Marinette's head,mostly her face. 

“Ahmm... ah...” Marinette swallowed. “what is the secret?”

Alya leaned closer, whispering softly. “I'm not trying to find out who they are any more.”

“What? But the blog?”

“Oh, I'm not taking down the blog. If it disappeared, too many people would be asking too many questions. But I've stopped looking for them. For who they really are.”

“What? Why?”

Alya leaned back in her chair, the weird smile turning a little bashful. It wasn't a normal look for her. “After Pharoh almost sacrificed me, I realized something. If they were my friends, I'd keep their secret. And I'd want to be their friend. I can't do that if I'm planning on just smearing their names all over the internet. So last week I talked to my host. That is the real reason I switched to moderated forums. This way, if I figured out who they are, I can protect them.” She paused, looking into the almost supernaturally blue eyes that were wide open. “Someone gets too close, I'll shut it down or let it post then mock the hell out of it to discredit the whole thing. I'd keep their secret. Even if I only had a theory about who they really are and I knew them, I might not ask. You know what I mean?”

Alya turned back to the forums, choosing which comments made the cut and which that would be locked, buried and hidden from the world. Marinette stared at the back of her friend's head. Marinette had a hard time swallowing for several minutes, her mouth and throat dry. 

“See, it's stuff like this. Look at this. Someone who probably has more pictures of Adrien than you do compared them to a bunch of pictures of Chat Noir. Seriously, people? Keep your weird fan fiction fantasies off my blog. Before I delete these, do you want copies of the ones of Adrien?” Marinette shook her head, gurgling slightly. “Ah, my little stalker has these already. Oh, and check out the user name this guy signed up with- NicePappaBear. I'm going to need to ban this guy right off, buh-buy pedo bear.” Marinette laughed loudly as she made the needed decision. 

Marinette let out a soft squeak. “Ah... I'll be right back. Need to pee.”

“Kay, it hasn't moved. I should be done when you're back”

Marinette grabbed her purse from the bed, dashing through the door. There was a squeal and a thud from the hallway, causing Alya to turn towards her bedroom door. “You ok?”

“Yeah... I just tripped over my foot.” There was a sigh. “I'm ok.”

Shaking her head as the bathroom door slammed, Alya turned her attention back to the Ladyblog. There had been a time when she'd seriously suspected her friend was the superhero in question. Same height, same build, pigtails, blue eyes, with buns that made Alya think about kissing girls. Add that to her being one of only two people in their class that hadn't been akumatized and never being seen near Ladybug. Ok, there was the time Alix was akumatized, but there had been two of her, so that didn't rule anything out, not even time travel. At first it seemed not completely implausible. Still didn't, at least on the surface, unless you knew Marinette. She couldn't talk to a boy without falling over; calling out Hawkmoth like that wouldn't be like her. “What was I thinking? The girl trips on air and has a bladder the size of a thimble. No way she could be Ladybug.”

\----LBCN----

Safely being a closed door, Marinette opened her purse. Tiki stared back, both sets of blue eyes painfully wide. Both of them hissed to each other, trying not be heard. “”Do you think she knows?”"

\----LBCN----

Alya pulled the to-be-blocked photos back up. Adrien as Chat Noir.... Rich, handsome, reclusive, smart, and family trauma. She shook her head- that would have been too much Bruce Wayne. No way. 

Nope. No way she was posting that. Chloe and the other psycho fangirls would be unmanageable if she posted that. 

Nope.

Alya's head rolled to the side as she kept looking at the photo.

No way.

No. 

Freaking. 

Way. 

She was bouncing in her chair a little as she clicked Delete, a private happy little dance.


	7. damaged goods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe. Ah Chloe. Does she even have the ability to understand what she does?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is a well used statement that there is nothing crueler than a child. What if one of the kids was stuck at six years old.

“What is her damn problem?” Alya kicked the empty can that had escaped from the trash bin, sending it skittering into traffic. Marinette wasn't sure if she could feel the heat from her best friend's rage, or it it was the heat of her own being reflected. Either way, both girls were pissed.

No, Alya wasn't built like a stick figure. Or a doll. But she had real curves, even if she usually hid her figure with those plaid shirts she liked despite Marinette's best attempts. But fat? No, certainly not. But with no other insults left in her head, Chloe had compared Alya to a cow. Specifically to a “Jersey moo cow” when she'd caught Alya and Nino necking when class let out for lunch.

Marinette had been angry. So had Nino. But Alya had tried to lunge at the obnoxious blond when Nino got his arms around her and physically held her back while the girl hissed and spit and tried get free. He wasn't sure how much damage Alya would have done if he hadn't, but he was pretty sure if it hadn't already happened she would have been akumatized. He wouldn't have been able to hold on much longer if Adrien hadn't appeared.

Although, the degree of coldness Adrien had shown startled Nino right out of his anger. At that moment he was his father's son. 'Sabrina, get her out of here, before she falls down and hurts herself.' It had been cold, it had been super angry and it hadn't seemed like Adrien- seriously, it hadn't. He'd growled, like an angry cat. But it had convinced Sabrina that maybe the best thing to do was get her... Mistress? Owner? Out of a situation that could be very bad. Chloe was out of sight, Nino was finally able to let go of Alya; during that time, Adrien had stood between his friends and that... girl.

Marrienette had suggested lunch at her parent's. It was private, it was quiet, and if need be, Alya could probably hide in her room this afternoon if she hadn't called down.

“You mean you guys don't know?” Every head swiveled to Adrien. “I thought everyone knew.”

Nino shook his head. “She's been like this since we were six. Never seen her be any different.”

Adrien groaned, pinching his nose. “Yeah, probably. This is something that would be covered up. OK, you can't tell anyone about this. Ever. Especially not Chloe, she can't know you know.” He waited for them, scowling a little. “Swear it.” Nino was the first, then Alya. “Marinette?”

No matter how good a person is, there is enough room even in Ladybug's soul for enough hate for one person. She had been Chloe's friend, once, for about a week, and enemies ever since. If she had an arch-nemesis, it honestly wasn't Hawkmoth. “Yeah, I swear.”

“Then lets get inside. This isn't a conversation for a street corner.”

Even Alya's eyes got wide at that point. Marinette led them upstairs, her parents busy with the mid-day rush on a friday. There was bread upstairs, along with cold cuts and cold pickled vegetables and chips. The four started making sandwiches before Adrien spoke again.

“So... growing up, I didn't get a chance to have a lot of friends. My mom wanted me to be normal, like she was growing up, you know, school, friends, but when you are rich there are things that get in the way. My mom..." He sighed, needing a second to compose his words. "If you are the model who launched the Gabriel line and married the designer, there are things you have to do. Charity work, speeches, that kind of thing. Chloe's mom went to a lot of the same things. Chloe and I would be dragged to various functions, and then put off in a kids room where we could be watched by nannies and bodygaurds and the like. Sometimes there were other kids around, but not many our age, and honestly a lot of rich kids aren't very fun. Chloe was fun. Most people left their kids at home. It wasn't that I wanted to be her friend, or not be her friend, it just she was always there, I don't remember her ever not being there. And she wasn't like this. She was bossy, but no worse than Alya on a bad day.”

The girl responded with a rude gesture and a savage bite of her sandwich.

“So it probably didn't get a lot of news, and we would have been too young. But her M. Bourgeuois was crazy. In and out of the hospital for a weeks at a time, or sometimes she'd just have a bad day and the doctor would go to their mansion.”

“I thought they lived in the hotel.”

“Not then they didn't. My mother knew what was happening, and she'd volunteered us to be a safe place for Chloe. Sometimes she'd come with an aide and a driver in the middle of the night, or just come and stay over for a couple days. It started when we were probably three, I think. And it wasn't just the bad days, my mom really liked her. And she liked my mom. Chloe decided that we would secretly be brother and sister. Partially because we're both blonds, and also so my mom could be her mom to.”

That was more than he'd said about his missing mother around Nino before, other than 'one day, she just left.' Marinette had told him a little about it, she knew that M Agreste had gone missing and that Gabriel had been questioned by the police. Afterwards, he had and apparently still did spend a lot of money on private investigators and former spies to track her down. And every year his lawyers went into court and demanded that she _not_ be declared dead, that she was simply missing.

“So one day, Chloe came over. Nothing wrong at home, just playing. And when it came time for her to leave, she threw a major tantrum. She didn't want to leave. She didn't want to go back to the mother who talked to monsters no one else could see.”

Marinette swallowed her mouthful. That hit close to home, a second hand flash from Joan running through her mind. Maybe the poor woman hadn't been crazy, but she couldn't say anything. “Wow, that bad?”

Adrien nodded. “Sometimes worse. I remember one time she freaked out when I was there, she started throwing things at the wall, saying that the demons weren't going to get me and Chloe. So Chloe was still tantruming when she got home. Her father would send her to her room for a time out when she was like that. And this time, she ran out of her room. Her father sent her back in again. I don't know how many times, but eventually he got angry and had someone hold the door closed for her time out.” Adrien stared through the wall, taking a deep breath.

“Dude... I thought your dad sucked.”

“Her mom had hanged herself in Chloe's bathroom while everyone thought she was taking a nap, from the shower. No one belived her so they kept putting her back in the room with her mother. Again. And again. And then they trapped her in there with the corpse.”

When he looked up, Nino looked a little green as put his lunch down. “Oh man, dude...” Alya was pale, and Marinette looked like she was on the verge of tears. There was a part of him that felt like was taking away her righteous fury at the blond girl, but it was probably a deserved dislike.

“So that's when Chloe broke. She went... away. For about six months. She wasn't the same after. She would freak out even going near her room, or any of her stuff, so they moved into the hotel, sold the townhouse. I've been in her suite, there isn't a shower in her bathroom, just a bath tub. Her father can't punish her. Can't say no to her. He doesn't know how. That's why she's the way she is. I don't like what she's become, but it isn't her fault. I'm worried about her, and for her. I don't like what she is now, and I don't like that I can't like her. I miss my friend. And when she's a harpy, I remember the little girl who used to cry and tell me she was scared of her mommy. But the part that hurts the most, the very most, is why is she like that and I'm not? Why didn't I end up like that after my mother...” His words broke off with a sob. He never, ever talked about his mother.

At the moment, Alya was still too numb to think, but later that night she realized something. Marinette hadn't shook or blushed or stuttered or mangled her words for the rest of the day after she'd hugged the blond boy and rubbed his back. It was a horrible kind of victory, but a victory none the less.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly felt bad writing this. One, it makes it hard to hate Chloe. Dislike her, that can be done, she's not a nice person. But you can't really hate someone who snapped like this, can you? Even I'm not that much of an asshole. 
> 
> This was actually sketched out third after Plagg and Tikki and Joan, including M. Bourgeois screaming at demons that no one can see, trying to protect both Chloe and sometimes Adrien. Given what we now know is probably happening with Chloe in season two, then maybe there was something after them. Cats and dogs stare at things we humans can't see. Maybe some of us can, and they are thought "mad" by the rest of us. And the nifty thing about being accused of being crazy, eventually the pshrinks make you believe it. 
> 
> One of my headcannons is that if you join Club Kwami, you get toned. Maybe not ripped, but you put on usable muscle and there are serious flexibility and cardio improvements. Alya with the fox is going to be a damn Amazon!


	8. Self confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette has something she needs to admit to herself. Several things actually.
> 
> Edited and extended 1-1-17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CAUTION: Sinfulness ahead. Sinful sin. Smut. Smutty, sinful smut. Actually, not all that much, really. You can get much more more detailed on HBO. But there is no innuendo. Just gracefully skirted around wickedness. Again, not detailed, that is left to your imagination. And dayum, Marinette has an imagination. 
> 
> If you are easily shocked or embarrassed, you might want to skip this chapter. If you're the kind of person who whimpers due to a lack of things being sterilized for you so-called safety, you might want to skip this chapter to. But you've probably curled up and died already at the idea of roasted Plagg, super possessive Tikki, Tom's slow road to a break down, Chloe's mother issues, and that rather not-so-innocent kiss between Nino and Alya. So please, my loyal readers, read, read, then get a cold glass of water and some fresh air.
> 
> Nope, the New Years Day extension of this is NOT the full smut version. Not sure I can write that. But there is something that has been bugging me- I didn't finish it. So I've finished it. Read, opine, please.

Marinette squirmed on the chase.

She was enjoying it. Just watching.

Watching.

Watching Chat.

Watching Adrien.

Watching Chat and Adrien. They could pass for brothers.

Watching Chat and Adrien, tentative pecks at first, then licking into eachother's mouths. She felt herself blushing at the thought. Brothers probably wouldn't be kissing like that.

She pressed her thighs together as the two blonds' lips separated. Adrien mewled as Chat kissed and nipped his throat, fingers stroking spines. Chat pulled the black t shirt up, barring Adrien's chest. The black leather of Chat's suit slowly unzipped, Adrien's fingers teasing into it.

Adrien tugged at Chat's hair, fresh lip and teeth marks on the model's neck as he bowed his head, kissing the hero's chest, tongue finding a male nipple.

Marinette moaned softly at the sight.

Chat held his hand out to her. “Come on Marinette, it's more fun when you join us.”

“Oh, but I wanted to tease Ladybug for a bit,” giggled Adrien as the zipper went lower. "Please, mi'lady, I know you like to watch us play?"

\--- LBCN ---

Marinette woke up with a moan. She felt sweaty and sticky and oh holy shit!

She looked at where Tikki should be, but wasn't. Marinette blinked as she sat up. “Tikki?”

The kwami floated up from the chaise. “I was giving you some space. You sounded like you were enjoying your dream”

The girl went crimson, burying her face in the pillow to let out a long, shrill, wordless sound half way between a shriek and a squeak. She never dreamed that vividly. She'd been able to smell them both. Adrien and Chat Noir. They smelled good. They'd tasted good. They'd felt really. REALLY good. She had a clear memory of four hands and two sets of lips roaming her body. And they'd known about both sides of her.

And not just Ladybug vs Marinette. She'd been between them and they'd been slow and patient and it had felt amazing and she'd never do anything like that and her hair was soaked with sweat. Both of them.

“Sorry Tikki.”

“You don't have to apologize. It is a perfectly normal and natural thing for a girl your age.”

“But...” Marinette hissed the word. “Both?”

“Why not?” Matinette could only stare as her kwami looked at her with perfect calmness and horrifying understanding. “Marinette, you have a crush on Adrien, and you spend a lot of time with Chat. They're both very pretty. And sweetie, you have a type.” Tikki giggled softly.

That idea ran through the young lady's head. _Ugh... what if I do? What if I like blond boys with piercing green eyes and bad jokes and tight backsides and smooth, muscular bodies. With full lips, and...Nope. No, nope! No, Marinette, bad Marinette!_

She wasn't going any further back down that rabbit hole in her head. She looked at the clock. Almost four and... That was sound of the toilet in a quiet house. Her parents were getting ready to start the bakery for the day. They let her sleep, but they opened the doors at six thirty. That meant she wasn't going to be able to get a shower without answering questions she really didn't want to tell the truth about. They went to bed most nights at nine, she never worried about how long she'd be out on patrol. They would never catch her.

But that wasn't why she was feeling weird.

Chat.

Or Adrien.

She could admit it to herself, her partner was pretty good looking. If you liked long, lean blond boys in black leather that was almost a second skin as it gripped those arms and legs and chest and...

And Adrien was... amazing. And smart. And kind. And chivalrous. With those fingers, they were so long and they looked strong and they were dexterous and she could imagine them on...

Or both... Best of both... She could feel the heat in her face, trying to melt her brain with her blush. She rolled over again to scream into her pillow, trying to hide. She couldn't escape the image of both of them looking up at her, Adrien biting her thigh as he squealed, Chat licking the other boy's neck, eyes up to look up thorugh Adrien's hair at Marinette while they...

She hadn't had a lot of dreams like that. And watching the two sexiest boys in her life doing _that_ while she watched. Of Chat kissing Adrien's neck from behind, their smooth bodies... moving... together... Chat's hand... stroking... first, while she watched.... the two of them... So that they would last longer when they... both... with her.... in her... at the same time... it should have been gross... but she liked it....

She screamed into the pillow again.

Tikki stroked her chosen's hair. “Oh, Marinette. You should relax.”

“But I'm a freak.”

Tikki just shook her head. One of these days Marinette would learn the truth. This wasn't the first time her chosen and Plagg's were attracted to eachother. It usually worked out.

“No, no you aren't....”

Marinette whimpered softly as she drifted back to sleep.

 

\--LBCN--

 

Marinette stirred again. She was warm, almost uncomfortably so. And still sticky and a little gross feeling, along with being achey in a slow, happy kind of way. She slowly opened her eyes, taking in a mop of blond hair.

She could feel the arm of the boy behind her pillowing her head, his other reaching over her waist and that of the boy in front of her. She knew without having to look they were both tall, lithe blonds with green eyes. She knew where she was. She knew what she'd done. She wasn't sure if this was a dream, of if the confession to Tikki was a dream.

She was pretty sure this was a dream.

There was a purring yawn from the boy behind her. “Hello beautiful.”

The one in front stirred, rolling over to face them. Chat grinned. “Finally, you two are awake”

Marinette shivered and stiffenned. They both hugged her, sandwiching her protectively, warmly. “Is this a dream?”

Adrien kissed the side of her neck as Chat kissed her forehead. With her eyes closed, she couldn't tell which one spoke. “Does it matter?”

She thought about it for a moment. Then she twisted about, pushing them away with a voice that was half sob and half command. “YES!” She leapt from the bed, naked other than her earrings and freckles. “It matters.”

Adrien smiled softly, almost sadly. “You have two lives. One for each of us. We both love both of you. It shouldn't matter, Ladybug.”

“I've always got your back, Marinette.” Chat sat up. “Even if I have to be a secret, I'll always be there for both of you. And for Adrien.”

Slipping an arm around the other blond's waist, Adrien's teeth glittered with a perfect smile. With their hair mussed, they really could pass for twins. “And I'll be your public face, standing in front of Ladybug to keep her secret safe. Both of you. All of us.”

“But I can't have both. I can't. I just can't...”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, sorry I've been away. New job has left me a bit worn out. 
> 
> If enough people ask, I MIGHT be convinced to the full dream. 
> 
> It would be it's own work, posted in parallel. 
> 
> And I'd never feel quite clean again. You'd people would like that, wouldn't you.


	9. Bitter Grapes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If someone asks "why did you do this", never say "I don't know". You know. You may not want to admit your reasons, particularly if you are going into madness, but you have to be honest with yourself. You know why you do what you do.

Most people had two descriptions of Agrest Manor.  
  
Some found it imposing. Spare, modernistic, harsh. An urban fortification designed with an eye to the future by a man who prized beauty above all other things but security.  
  
Others found it stately, a modern castle, a brilliant shape of the future. Chic, clean, organized, and oh so very green. It was forward thinking without giving up the nature of classic Paris.  
  
There was no cross over between the two opinions. But there were people who fit into neither camp. To one, it was a prison, the place he would escape if he knew that was a realistic option for him. To another, it was  a reward, for better or for worse, for what she'd done. And to Gabriel, it was the headquarters by which he steered a global corporation. He was The Line, Gabriel was _Gabriel_. And what people thought about Agrest Manor, they thought about him.  
  
But there was a room that few knew of and none but one other had been in for years. Natalie knew of his meditation room. She had to, but she didn't know how to unlock the door and had never been allowed in here.  
  
Natalie. He didn't know what he'd have done without that cold, ruthless, calculating mind at his side. She was a problem that had solved itself. She'd come to Paris studying business and trying to be a model. While attractive enough, she hadn't been of the quality of a model. After a few minor shoots, the woman in charge of selecting the second and third tier models had disinvited Mademoiselle Sancoire from future participation. Gangley, insufficiently expressive, too cold. But Emily had seen something in the young lady. His wife had taken... he didn't want to think of it as something so crass as “pity”. She'd been salvageable from a misapplication of resources. Natalie was his right hand now.  
  
 Gabriel looked down at the papers in his right hand. The household balance sheet for the past month. He'd made a mistake bringing those here into his sanctuary. Adrien's spending was up, but within what he'd expected with his heir going to a public school. The unplanned maintenance on the limo was just one of those things that happened, and minor enough to disappear at years end. No, what had been unexpected was from the billing for Adrien's education.  
  
The line item “Tutoring (Language, Mandarin)” had a change.  
  
It hadn't changed in years, Mssr Errera had been a very capable tutor. A former diplomat who had been assigned to Beijing embassy for several years, he'd had full mastery of Mandarin and Cantonese, along with German. He'd been... helpful when Gabriel's search for Emily had taken him to the Peoples Republic. He'd reported several months ago that while he could advise Adrien on the culture of China, the boy had surpassed his tutor in that language as he had those tutors in Spanish, German and English. Natalie had suggested a new tutor in a new language, Adrien did have a knack for them.  
  
The check this month for Chinese tutoring had actually been a check. Idly, Gabriel wondered when the last time such a thing had happened- the people he still had looking for information about his wife's secrets had preferred either cash in a shopping bag delivered by his driver or electronic transfers through Cayman or Swiss bank accounts. But that isn't what had stopped him cold when he saw it. It had been the address.  
  
Gabriel looked up from the papers, and around the room. This had been his and Emily's training salle. Her foil and sabre were still racked with his. He'd started le savate and fencing as a child, they had been the interests his father had felt was suitable for his son.  
  
The man had most adamantly refused to acknowledge fashion as a respectable interest for a real man. Grapes, wine, pigs, and sheep, that is what the old man had known. A bitter farmer and son of a cripple, coldly angry and obsessed with trying to bring back a way of life that had died generations before, he treated his son like a dim witted hired man. That was what Gabriel was raised to know. The old farmer hadn't spoken with his son since Gabriel had moved to Paris to study, nor had Gabriel had tried to stay in touch. His mother had died when he was a boy, and among his first acts in Paris had been to legally change his name. He hadn't forgotten what he knew of wine and grapes, this was a topic shared by both cultured intellectuals and semi-literate pig farmers. Agrest was the variety of grapes he'd seen every day of his life. They were a local strain of the grapes for Merlot.  
  
The chair creaked as he moved, pouring wine. This was the place his memories resided.  
  
The drawing framed above the table, of a dress. He'd been sitting on a step at Trocadero trying to work on a spring line proposal as he tried to ignore the hunger in his stomach and the first blowing snow flakes and the seep of moisture into the newspaper he sat on trying to stay warm. Someone stepped into his light, looking over his shoulder. He'd looked up to complain and it was like stepping from the shadows and seeing real light for the first time.  
  
'Thats a nice dress, I'd love to wear it if you get it made.' Her first words to him. His first words had been... embarrassing. Inarticulate. She'd invited him to get a cup of coffee with her. She'd paid. It had turned into a second cup coffee and croissants. She asked to see more of his work, and he'd swallowed his embarrassment at the tiny apartment he paid for by the week. He had a hot plate, a tiny refrigerator, and a sink that had been new before WWI, with the rest of the plumbing shared down the hall. She hadn't said anything or giggled or sniffed at the sight of the sleeping bag under table, or the stack of text and fashion books. She hadn't sneered as she ran her fingers over the moth eaten dummies that were as old as they were, or the machine older than the two of them combined.  
  
She'd picked up a dress that he'd made, a wine dark velvet piece. She asked if she could try it on, and silenced his sputtering by saying she was the same size as the dress form. She hadn't even asked him to leave- she was a model, she was comfortable with being seen so long as he didn't stare. He blushed the color of the dress and turned to face the wall as she changed. And... it had fit. He had tried to give it to her. She had insisted on paying.  
  
He hated taking the money, but after he'd seen her out, he gave it to the landlady. He'd have a place to sleep for another week and enough money to buy food for a week and to meet Emily again tomorrow for coffee. She told him that she fenced over that second round of coffee, but she wasn't very good. They'd gone to her place to pick up her uniform and foil, then to her salle where she'd begged the loan of mask and sword for him. He'd been rusty. They'd gone back and forth, trading point for point.  
  
After ten days, she'd told him he had to stop being so mild, and being afraid of people's judgement. And she helped him sell a design. He'd wanted to buy her flowers, but she said no. Cut flowers were a terrible thing in her eyes. She told him to her it said “I saw something beautiful and it reminded me of you, so I killed it and brought you the corpse.” It was a sign that the world was full of psycho killers waiting to happen, at least in her eyes. So he bought her a tiny potted tea rose.  
  
Then he sold another design. And another. He couldn't have done it without her. She changed him from Gabriel Agrest, starving artist, to Gabriel, designer. She'd had the people skills he would never have. People liked her.  
  
After six months, she proposed to him. He'd refused, he couldn't, not yet, but he did love her. She didn't left him.  
  
After three years, with her as his muse, his model and his friend, he'd been able to open his first boutique. And on that opening day, before all (four) of his employees, he'd gotten down on his knee and brought out a little black box with a small diamond in it. That night, she had told him that if he wanted to take the ring back after she told him something she would understand, but she swore him to secrecy. She touched the pin she always wore, the one she said that her grandmother had given her. That was the night he met his first kwami, Duusu.  
  
Two years after that, they'd closed the boutique and took _Gabriel_ , the line rather than the man, global. And Pavon started to retreat from the heros life.  
  
A year later, Agrest Manor had been built. They'd designed this salle. He'd surprised her with a two story sunroom that she could use for her flowers. Those were the places her presence was the strongest.  
  
After she'd disappeared, he'd had the salle walled off, accessible only through a hidden door secured with magnetic lock. He had the only key. Adrien's bedroom and Gabriel's sewing room he'd had turned into a compact apartment for Natalie after Emily's sunroom had turned into his son's bedroom.  
  
His son who was now Fu's pupil, as his wife had been.  
  
His son.  
  
He took an album from the drawer. Over the past several months, he'd looked in it so often it opened to the right page.  
  
Adrien. About four. There had been a masquerade at the Le Grande Paris, many of the great designers and their leading models had been invited along with the artistic and intillectual elite of the city that Bourgeois liked to have around him to make him less common. Adrien had gone with him and Emily, and had been in the kids' room while he and his wife mingled. Gabriel had to be there to represent the brand, and as Emily pointed out, she didn't get enough chance to have his 'almost two meters of arm candy' with her when she performed society functions.  
  
He'd been dressed elegantly in a suit styled after the the fashion of the court of Louis XIV, masked and caped. Emily was as well, in a blue dress inspired by a peacock. Oh, the irony. That was why he hadn't looked at this picture for some time after finding her... body. His throat tightened as he looked at the dress she'd worn. She'd designed it herself, she was not lacking talent in that department, just not as interested as he was. Looking at the photo. A family snapshot, like normal people had. It should remind him of happy times. It reminded him of digging in that frozen graveyard at night in a winter in the foot hills of the Himalayas.  
  
When she disappeared, he'd been calm for a few days. Then he had to report her to the police. She'd left him notes of what to do if this happened. Put a red piece of paper in a certain window, then call the police. The police had taken him into custody, which had not been part of the plan. It had almost ruined the line; if Gabriel had been a publicly traded company it probably would have. The police had talked to his wife's assistant, Natalie, and to Adrien. They'd been the last people to see Emily. After the police released him, he'd hired detectives. He payed rumor mongers. He payed mercenaries, black marketeers, smugglers and murderous riffraff. After a year, someone had told him a story from China.  
  
So he went to China. He hadn't told Natalie very much. She'd already taken over not only caring for Adrien but caring for the company. He had stopped designing, she'd hired the designers who were actually producing the line then, and honestly still did much of the work. He'd gone to China for a six months.  
  
The locals found a body in the river, a slim blond Western woman. With what some thought was a doll in her arms. That is what the Party would have told them to believe. But there were some who had survived the social purges of Mao, who said it was a god. A small blue god. They buried the palm sized alien figure with her.  
  
He'd dug in the night. He'd had use the light of the moon, he couldn't risk being caught. He was a grave robber. But it was his grave to rob. His life was in that hole. Pick and shovel and bucket, through the darkness. Until he'd found the cloth windings. Death hadn't been kind to his love, but it was her. And that was no doll. Duusu was dead. He found her Miraculous. What had been unnaturally smooth, what had looked like it should be heavier than anything that size should while also being weightless, it was destroyed. It was mostly physically intact, but he'd been so familiar with it. The surface was faded, chipped, cracked, like cheap costume jewelry. It was no longer a timeless, indestructible portal for an immortal god who made his wife a hero.  
  
He didn't return from China empty handed. He'd had to pay bribes to bring the body back without record. He'd torn up one of her flower beds. He'd tried to be careful as he dug into it. It was a pretty spot. A sunny spot. He'd done his best to replant the flowers over her grave, but they died. It was fitting that the flowers died; they were something beautiful from someone beautiful.  
  
Natalie knew what he'd done. She hired a gardener, and hoped that he'd put the... body deep enough. Gabriel had changed. So much of his humanity had been burned out of him.  
  
Something had killed them. Killed his wife and her kwami. Something big. Something Evil. He'd become a bad man, he knew it. She'd be ashamed of him. He was hurting children. But he wasn't that evil. But they didn't remember, Nooroo promised he could make sure they would forget.  
  
The butterfly miraculous had crossed his path. One of his buyers had procured it in a lot of mixed, vintage accessories from the widow of a crippled veteran. She'd made them promise not to throw any of it away. Some of his employees were sentimental, so they hadn't. It had just been laying around the prop room of the studio when a spark of random curiosity compelled Gabriel to look in the dusty velvet box. Inside had been service medals, the only ones he regonized were the Resistance cross and medal, and the war wounded medal with a constellation of red stars. Amongst these lay a small butterfly pin. It looked like it should be heavy, but it weighed nothing. It didn't absorb heat, it had been warm. He knew what it was.  
  
He'd pocketed the whole case.  
  
That night, he'd come up here to the place where he and Emily had sparred. And honestly, where Adrien had probably been conceived. The place she' decorated, the window she'd left Manor through when as Pavon when times had pressed.  
  
He'd put on the Miraculous. And waited. But not long. Nooro. He knew this kwami's name. Nooro knew Duusu's... something. The ghost of the little god's being. And the butterfly had wept. And Gabriel had wept. The two of them, bitterly.  
  
Gabriel still didn't understand the culture of the kwami. He knew that they weren't like humans, and they were dying out. They couldn't have children, things weren't right any more. Maybe it was that there wasn't enough of them. But Nooro had loved Duusu, as he'd loved Emily, either as a deep friend or as a lover wasn't clear, but they had been meant to be together.  
  
They had planned. Nooro told him of the most powerful kwami. Of Tikki and Plagg. Creator and destroyer. Together, if anything could bring back their loves, their lives, Tikki and Plagg could. He told him of Sifu Fu.  
  
Fu, who had been Emily's strange friend and herbalist and odd mystical advisor. It all made sense now. Fu, who had conned Emily, stolen her from Gabriel before he ever met her. Who damned his son to be in all purposes that mattered an orphan.  
  
He and Nooro had created a good plan. A solid plan. First, Gabriel had to stop being a hermit. He had to take control of his company and of his son. He had to start designing again. He had to appear in public, the charities and the soiries. Things would be happening soon, he'd need clout and favor and to control a politician or three- he started to bankroll that pompous windbag Bourgeois. Gabriel Agrest returned to the living world, even if he was colder and harder than before.  
  
Nooro knew what criteria Wayzz used to choose a Miraculous holder. Those traits were strong in his son. Being the son of a Miraculous holder had helped greatly, it had been something about attuning the nervous system to be sensitive to magic during fetal development. Gabriel remembered finding the peacock squawking to his wife, covered in saliva after baby Adrien had teethed on the spirit.  Emily had encouraged their son to explore math and science and music, while not letting him forget to be sure he had an imagination. And she'd taught him compassion, kindness, and duty. She and Duusu had planted the seed.  
  
Gabriel had made a decision to hide the truth of his mother from Adrien. He didn't have to know that Emily was dead. Because soon she wouldn't be. Gabriel made the decision that Adrien would not be going to school like his mother had promised. Part of his soul had died breaking her promise, but Adrien would be molded to be the perfect Miraculous holder. He would be worthy of Plagg or Tikki, and when whatever Evil had fell Emily and Duusu arose, Fu would have to choose his son. Where the Lady or her Knight went, the other followed. If they wished it, time and space would become irrelevant and the powers of life and death would be unlocked.  
  
He and Nooroo would have a simple, easy, rational conversation with the other kwami. And if that failed, they would beg, they would bargain. They would plead. Anything to bring back Emily and Duusu.  
  
Then Pavon and Hawkmoth and the Ladybug and the Cat would stop whatever that evil was. They would stand with the Guardian Turtle and the bee and the fox. They were all that was left of magic in this world. They would make the world safe.  
  
They had to. Or there would be no more world left to bring Emily and Duusu back to.  
  
Only then would he and Fu have a conversation that would leave one of their kwami displaced. Besides, the Gaurdian was Chinese and was supposed to be fluent in many languages. Gabriel would keep his enemies close.  
  
Gabriel looked at that picture again. Adrien standing with his parents, so proud. He'd designed this costume himself, he said. Black slacks, and a zippered black turtleneck. Domino mask with his piercing green eyes showing through it. Black  felt and leather ears pinned into blond hair. A toy sword thrust through the overly long belt because a knight needs a sword to protect his lady. One of the belts from that year's line: black leather, continuously pierced so even as a child Adrien could wear it, the leather stiff enough to sway and wag behind him like a tail, the metal tip giving it mass to react to his movements.  
  
Gabriel didn't think his son remembered the first time he'd been the Black Cat. Le Chat Noir.  
  
Gabriel had never forgotten.  
  
Gabriel sipped at his wine again, watching the security monitors. Leaving the table, Nooro fluttered up to watch, pausing to ring glasses with his human. The plan was working. Even if the plan failed, there was a backup plan to make sure Emily and Duusu hadn't died in vain.  
  
On the screen, they watched as Chat Noir left his bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There two theories that I have and lack sufficient evidence to determine which one is accurate. 
> 
> One, Nooro is an unwilling victim to whatever Hawkmoth is planning. It makes for a nice, simple, clean story. Find the bad guy, take him down, free the hostage. Post-modern fairy tail. It gives the opening that Nooro may be trying to escape or at least hinder Hawkmoth. 
> 
> Two, Nooro is a willing partner. That means we have a kwami who's probably not playing with a full deck, and his motivations may be extreme. When gods go mad, how do you put them down? This peice, obviously, is the mad kwami territory. 
> 
> Personally, I hope Astruc goes with the former scenario. It's a happier story. The second.... Yeah. 
> 
> So, I really want feed back on the style of this. As I was doing my third rewrite, I was realizing I was using character connection and emotions almost the way Del Toro does color, and then by round five... tada! Colors! 
> 
> And in writting this, I realized that implied a fair level of baddass for Gabe. Assuming he is Hawkmoth, I'd like to see him actually show us if that stick is a pretty dandy's cane or if he actually knows how to use it. I don't think he's Evil. I think he's broken and a bad man, or in the vernacular, "batshit". But not Evil.


	10. A Matter of Timing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alix ponders the nature of existence. Specifically, hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timebreaker has too much opportunity for someone working in the fandom. I wanted to do something with it. 
> 
> The first proposal was watching a series of Ladybugs and Chats watching the other getting hit by Timebraker, and riding back in time, leap frogging. It would have been a gruesome Groundhogs Day meets ST:TNG Parallels-like story. Zap Ladybug, Chat goes back. Zap Chat, Ladybug goes back. Zap them both, Alya goes back. Zap. Zap. Zap. Until Ladybug figures it out on the umpteenth iteration. I still might do it. 
> 
> But this is a happier story than a cycle of death.

Alix was sprawled on her bed watching time pass by. The seconds shifting in the glowing blue field.

The watch. When she let her mind drift, it had started to go to the watch more and more.

It was a family heirloom, and unlike anything she'd ever seen before. It had been cool, but the fixation had started when Jamal had seen it for the first time. He'd reacted like he'd never seen it before. When she'd asked, he said he'd never been offered it.

Why? Heirlooms usually go the first born. Jamal had never been given anything like this. Her dad loved her, but Jamal was the one following in their dad's path. He was the eldest.

Right?

She remembered there was a period of time when she was very little. It had just been her and Dad for a while. Mom had been sick and had gone away. Then Mom had come and she'd had Jamal, and he'd been bigger than her but she couldn't remember him the way she could Mom.

If she could remember her parents, she should be able to remember her older brother. It was a vague memory of when Mom and Jamal came back, but it was real. And she remembered being really confused by Jamal.

Jamal, who her parents never called her “older brother”. Always her “big brother” or just her “brother”. She was nearly a midget, everyone was big compared to her, but even if he had more birthdays he was never the _older_ sibling. Maybe it was just a quirk of her father. He was an archeologist, maybe to be “older” you had to be a mummy.

Maybe.

Right?

Alix knew she was... odd. Her whole family was odd. But she wasn't normal.

She tugged at a lock of her hair, looking at it. Everyone thought she'd dyed it. But she didn't. It was neon pink by nature. Not just on her head, her eyebrows to. And then she'd had to start shaving, pink hair other places spotted in the locker room would have just made too many questions. She wasn't normal. She didn't get colds, she never got sick. She was faster than most people, even without her skates. She didn't know when she noticed, but the one time she'd asked her mother, she was told “it's just the way you were made, sweetie” while her mother had a really spacy, creepy look on her face. Alix didn't ask her dad.

And unlike most people, she remembered bits of her time as an Akuma. She couldn't remember the watch breaking, at least not the way Kim and Max described it, just the aching rage. She didn't remember Hawkmoth. She could remember the other Timebreaker. Seeing herself, and thinking _oh, future-me, hi_. No one should be that calm meeting themselves like that. No one.

No one normal. Or natural.

There were times when her parents had kept her and Jamal in, made them stay at home, just before a disaster or a crime, something no one should have been able to predict. Once or twice, ok. But there had been dozens of times. And they hadn't freaked out either of their kids had been hit by Hawkmoth.

They hadn't been excited by Hawkmoth- he was a concern, but so was the weather. But Alya's blog had made her parents babble about how important it was to make copies of everything, calling it a 'primary source”. They talked about it like her dad talked about the pharohs or her mom talked about genetics. OK, her dad was a historian, this would be historically important, maybe, in a hundred years. But her mom had been really excited, saying at breakfast “this is the day the blog goes online”, before Alya had shown it to everyone.

She ran her fingers through the projection of the watch. Max had told her that it shouldn't exist, he didn't know of anyone with holograms this advanced yet. Max was the biggest techhead she knew.

There were too many problems with her watch. There were too many problems with her existance.

Her phone buzzed, having received a text.

“HEY, SCALE MODEL.”

“W@, MEATHEAD?” Speaking of problems- Kim. Kim was a problem.

Timebreaker sighed. There were solutions to the Kim problem. Some involved duct tape. Some involved a step ladder. 

Some involved duct tape and a step ladder. And lip gloss.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is something about Alix that reminds me of Holly Hardesty, nee Jones. But that could just me- when in doubt, I will revert to RAH and HBP references. Thus the "scale model" reference. 
> 
> And yes, chap 3's title is a respect to Dahlquist. 
> 
> If you understand all of that, comment! I don't want to be the only old fart here. I probably am. But for the love of itty bitty neutrinos, let me not be the only one who knows the classics.


	11. Loose Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'll sum this up with three quotes.  
> "Not all who wander are lost."  
> "There is no fate but what we make."  
> "No matter where you go, there you are."
> 
> I'd bet money that makes a lot more sense after you read this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is very short. Embarrassingly so. It was three minute sketch, and 20 minutes to finish. I was inspired by something I heard on the radio today.

“Nino! _**Stop!**_ ”

The boy froze, her hand outstretched to the cashier of the coffee shop. The young woman behind the counter froze as well, as did several other customers nearby. On the other side of the coffee shop, Marinette looked up from Adrien's phone where he'd been showing her a proof from a photoshoot for next season's women's line, both their heads snapping around with the type of speed normally reserved for caffeinated squirrels and superheroes.

Alya's voice could be demanding, bossy, even abrasive, but this time... there was no question. It was a command, and it was a voice of pending doom. The usual tones of her accent where buried under her mood. Something in her body language seemed to make her stand taller several seconds.

“Huh?” Nino blinked.

“I'm paying. Give me that.” Alya plucked the five euro note from his hand, shoving it down into her shirt, before reaching into her pocket for her money. The cashier shrugged as if to say _whatever, so long as someone pays_. He took the note from him and made change as Nino grabbed two of the coffees. Alya took the other two and followed him, very aware that everyone in the coffee shop was looking at her. She was blushing a color closer to what Marinette would show when she sat down.

“Dude, Alya. What was that?”

“Nothing. Drink your coffee. Ask me later.” Alya pushed the change over at her boyfriend. He was making out ahead. She flipped the hood of her sweatshirt up, pulling the edge down over her face as much as she could, with her eyes closed as she pulled her heels up to edge of the bench, trapping Marinette in the corner.

**\--LBCN--**

Adrien has left first, off to yet another photoshoot. Then Nino, off to prep for a DJ gig. That left Marinette and Alya alone, and in Marinette's room.

“So, Alya...” Marinetter left the question open, looking at her friend questioningly.

“You mean that thing with the money?”

“No. The other time you slapped Nino in public.”

Alya crossed her arms and lowered her chin defensively. “It's nothing”

“Really? Then maybe you should apologize- he looked kinda... out of it. This contest tonight is really important to him, and you aren't even going to watch him.”

Alya glared back, but it was much less impressive than the one Marinette was giving her. This was the kind of glare she reserved for Chloe (or, if Alya had known, one of Hawkmoth's minions).

“If it's nothing, tell him now.” Marinette froze for a second. For a moment, it felt like Tikki was in her mouth. She moved her tongue around.... no, red sprite was under her tongue. “Text him, tell him what happened.”

“No! It's stupid. It's silly.”

“Then you can tell me.”

With a sigh, Alya reached into her shirt, fishing about for the five. She pulled the bill out, uncrumpling it. She smoothed it out on Marinette's desk, pointing to the corner. Marinette gasped at what she saw.

Alya's fingers continued to reverently stroke the bill as she spoke. She was almost petting it. “I didn't want to come to France. I thought I was going to hate it here. I thought I was leaving everything behind. And I made myself a promise I wouldn't like anyone here. No friends. And certainly not a boyfriend. Sometimes.” She smiled a little, laughing at herself. “So... one of my friends there said that if I wrote my name on a bill and let it circulate, it would call me home.”

Marinette looked up. “Really.”

“Really. And the boy who had it was going to be my husband.”

Marinette's eyes got very wide. She picked it up, looking at the bill again. “You mean this thing...”

“Was the last euroI spent in Martinique.”

Alya wasn't the only one who'd scribbled on it. There was a cartoon on the other side, of a smug fox siting on a turtle. There was the Chinese character her mother would use to say "good luck" in another corner, **福**. If she knew how to pronounce it, she would have been decidedly less calm. Marinette set it down. In the time since she'd met Tikki, she'd learned a lot. One of those was to believe in magic, karma, destiny, whatever you wanted to call it. After a moment, she looked at her friend. “I think I've got a frame that will fit in. But only if you tell him you're sorry”

Alya looked at her phone. She didn't remember taking it from her pocket. Her thumb slipped over the screen as she tapped out the message. _Sorry I'm crazy. I'll tell you later, but not today. Changed my mind. I'll be at the show- I want to see you kick butt!  
_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I'm about as subtle as a cinderblock through a window. I supposed that is better than a decapitated head through that window.
> 
> I'll leave it as an exercise to the reader to look up the Chinese character in question. And how to pronounce it. There are a couple possible solutions, but only one correct one. If Marinette actually knew mandarin, she'd probably fall over.


	12. Cookies Crumble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hard things crumble when they don't bend, and things start to die the moment they stop adapting. 
> 
> Even gods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be my response to AmyNChan's "no heart break" bet... Ooops. This one might leave a slight bruise.

Tikki was nibbling on a cookie while Marinette was in the shower. She was looking out the window. Jauques as outside on the sill. He was looking in at her. The pigeon was clearly confused by her- she didn't fit any shape that existed in his poor bird brain, and she was clearly not edible.

There was a step on the stairs. Tiki turned, expecting to see her chosen. Then another step. The timing was wrong for Marinette. Tiki froze as a crown of black hair came into view. There wasn't time to phase- she froze and thought toy-like thoughts. She didn't blink.

Sabine set the basket of laundry on the floor next to the trapdoor. She look around with a sigh- it was neat enough. A little chaotic, but it was clear Marinette was in the middle of a sewing project. She frowned, looking at the little red toy on Marinette's desk.

Sabine looked it. There was something off about it, but she wasn't sure what. She stepped over to the desk, looking the toy. It wasn't the type of thing that Marinette normally made. Sabine lightly ran her thumb over the front of the toy. She wasn't even sure what it was made of- it was warm, like it was alive, soft, but firm to.

Crumbs. That is what was wrong. Cookie crumbs. There were a couple of cookies, one partially nibbled, on Marinette's desk.

“Well, aren't you the cutest little cookie thief.” Sabine licked her thumb, before scrubbing the crumbs away. “I don't know what you are, other than you look like a ladybug.” She looked at trapdoor, before leaning down, whispering. “You couldn't be the way my daughter turns into Ladybug. That would be crazy. Marinette, a super hero.” She lightly kissed the top of the doll's head. “Take care of her. And yesterday's cookies end up in the basket on top of the refrigerator, but I'm sure you knew that already.”

With a small smile, Sabine walked back down the stairs.

Tikki sat there, frozen, counting. Counting. Then she slumped, shaking slightly. Tikki took a deep breath.

Sabine knew.

Sabine knew that Marinette was Ladybug.

That meant that Tom probably knew.

The last time anyone had known...

Tikki took a deep, shuddering breath. Marinette wasn't Joan or Ak-muna or any of the others. Sabine and Tom weren't like that. Humans were better now. These were Marinette's parent, they were why Marinette was _Marinette_. Without them, she wouldn't have the best Ladybug she'd ever had. She took another breath, letting it out as a sigh. Marinette's parents were safe. They knew and they hadn't told Marinette.

They hadn't told her they knew her secret.

They would keep the secret.

They were safe.

Marinette was safe.

She was safe.

Ladybug was safe.

She took another breath. She didn't need to breath, not to live, just to talk, but it had always seemed to calm her humans. She reached over for the chocolate chip cookie she'd been nibbling on and and took a big bite. That seemed to help her humans to.

She froze at the sound of a step on the stairs. Then another. And another. Marinette's blue highlighted hair appeared. Tikki sighed as Marinette closed the door behind her, then stopped and looked at the laundry. “My mom was here?”

“Marinette, it's ok.”

Marinette knew how Tikki felt about being seen. The girl Tikki had mewed at in Trocadero had rattled her for days. She lightly stroked her kwami's head. “You sure?”

“I'm sure. It's ok.” _It is. It really is._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You spend too long wearing armour, and after a while, you forget how to take it off. It replaces your normal skin. 
> 
> But if you're very, very lucky, you find someone who reminds you what it was like to not live in steel and silk. What it was like to not have leather and ceramic for your hide.


	13. On Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning, Marichat ahead. I don't know if it's good, but... Everyone does it, I figured I'd try it. This one is my take on it, so of course... you give me people with bad luck, bad luck happens. With industrial machinery involved. There are owwies involved. Screaming owwies. 
> 
> And types. 
> 
> And self-shaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Point" has many meanings. Among some of those in the Oxford dictionary that I think apply:  
> \- The tapered, sharp end of a tool, weapon, or other object.  
> \- A particular spot, place, or position in an area or on a map, object, or surface  
> \- The critical or decisive moment; The verge or brink of (doing or being something)  
> \- Direct someone's attention towards something by extending one's finger or something held in one's hand.
> 
> They also point out this etymology of the word, from Old French and in turn derived from Latin punctum ‘something that is pricked', and it's verb form 'puncta'.
> 
> And when I say it, "point" is the first guy in, the one who finds the danger. The one who can never be off his guard, because everyone relies on him being their eyes and ears if there is something bad waiting for them. It means everyone has your back, but too often, it's just you, your skills and your gear in that first critical moment when it all goes wrong.
> 
> That being said, I'd rather walk point or tail than compass every day of the week. Compass man screws up, everyone knows it because everyone is lost.... Yeah.... I don't think you ever live that down if you live.

Chat left the rooftop at full speed, leaping off into air. With practiced ease he crossed the traffic and sidewalks with no more noise than a gliding owl. He didn't need his staff for the fifteen meters and a story drop- he landed on one foot, letting inertia carry him forward to the next foot. He let his knee bend, dropping into a roll to shed the rest of his speed, with just enough to roll to his feet.

Sunday wasn't a patrol night, so that he and Ladybug could take care of their homework. But Adrien had finished his between the two shoots his father had scheduled yesterday. That meant tonight, he didn't have to be Adrien. Chat Noir could run as he'd wished. He reveled in the freedom that came with being clad in the shadow-black suit.

Freedom. Like going to school. Maybe that is why he'd returned to Francois Dupont while running where his feet took him. He sprawled out on the roof, watching the few stars that made it through the glow of Paris.

His ears flickered, picking up a sound. A mechanical whirring- he recognized it as a it as a sewing machine. Chat chuckled as he looked across the street- Marinette's bedroom lights were still on, her skylight open. He grinned. He clumsy friend must be burning the midnight oil. He shook his head, unsure if 'friend' was quite the right word, but it was the word he _wanted_ so it was the one he used. She was fierce but kind. He could see why his Lady considered his classmate a friend- that was just Marinette being Marinette. Even if he had no idea what was up with the stuttering.

There was something unnerving about her. He couldn't think of any girl other than Ladybug he'd flirted with. It was confusing. _Princess._ Why had he called her that when Nathaniel had been akumatized. _My Lady._ He closed his eyes, his pulse throbbing in his temples.

His ears flicked upright as his spine straightened. He was on his feet before he knew why- there had been a scream. And the sewing machine stopped. This was why he patrolled.

And it was a friend.

He was moving already, extending his staff into the middle of the park, riding it across to the roof of the bakery with a thud. He called to the open door. “Hello? Superhero. I heard a scream. Is everyone ok?”

\--LBCN--

Tikki sat on the top of Marinette's long cat pillow, watching her Chosen working away. “Marinette, it's after midnight.”

The raven haired girl continued to feed the fabric through her machine, her foot not lifting off the pedal. She'd done this thousands of times. Maybe that is why she looked up. Maybe it was that Tikki had been mother henning her for a half hour. Maybe she really was over tired. Maybe it was just the bad luck that bedeviled her unless she was Ladybug. In any case, she took her eyes off her stitching, turning to glare at her kwami. “Just a few min- AAAHHHH!!!!! Meirde!”

She looked down, her foot already off the peddle. The needle had pierced her middle finger several times, stiching into the side of it until the whole thing jammed up. It was already bleeding heavily, ruining the material. Marinette bit down on her upper lip hard- this really hurt. She flipped the foot up, tears filling her eyes- her finger had followed the needle upward. She was trying to figure out how to back the needle out with her left hand- the wheel was on the right side of her machine. “Tikk-”

WHUMP! Something landed on her roof. “Hello? Superhero. I heard a scream. Is everyone ok?”

Marinette's eyes went wide at the familiar voice. She didn't need this. Tikki's eyes looked up, then back at her chosen, back and forth. She dove under Cheshire, giving the girl a pained look. Marinette wasn't ready to reveal herself yet, Tikki wasn't either. The red kwami peeked from under the long pillow.

Marinette's hands were frozen as she looked at the skylight. A familiar blond head hung upside down.

“Hi. You ok?”

“Just-ugh.. peachy. I ran over my finger with my sewing machine.” This really did hurt. Marinette felt the sweat pooling at the small of her back.

“Why did you do that? Do you need help?”

“Because I'm a klutz.” Marinette sighed- it was the truth. Ladybug was lucky. Ladybug was graceful. Ladybug had gloves that were indestructible and let her hold red hot metal without being burned but were thin enough to tell heads from tails on a coin. “Yeah. Come in.”

Hands on the edge, Chat rolled himself through the door frame so he'd land feet first at the top stair to the bed loft. He was very careful not to step on the bed itself. His footfalls were not as loud as her breathing as he looked at the situation. Chat hoped his bad luck wouldn't crop up. “OK, Princess. I want you to take a really deep breath, this might hurt.”

Marinette rolled her eyes at the nickname. This was no time to be flirting. But she took the deep breath and closed her eyes as she squeaked out, “Don't break it.”

“I know a lot about sewing machines. It's ok.” Holding the handwheel he slowly turned it to lift the foot and needle, but stopped when she squealled. “Shhh.... it's ok. Bite down on this. Watch the tip.”

Marinette opened her eyes to him pressing the end of his tail into her left hand. She nodded, biting down on it, afraid to hurt him. Her other side had pulled this enough times, Chat would have told her if it hurt. Right? The pain flared again, her teeth digging into the leathery material and her eyes closing. The needle moving really hurt, she wasn't ashamed to cry over this. She felt his fingers circle her wrist, before he flipped up the lever for the foot, dragging it out of finger. His voice was a velvety whisper, trying to reassure her. “Shhhh... Shhh... Its ok. It's out.”

Marinette let out a moan when she looked at her finger. It wasn't the pain. She hadn't had a lot of this marterial, she hadn't left much allowance, and it was now stitched to her hand. “Its ruined.”

Chat still hadn't let go of her wrist, not really, just shifted his grip to hold her hand. He picked up the thread snips from their place next to her machine, gently cutting the thread and tugging it slowly out of the three punctures. “Its just fabric.”

“But its silk!”

He nodded, his black cat's ear brushing her jaw. “It is, isn't it.”

“I was making my Dad a good tie. All his are so...” She broke off with a squeak as he pulled the threads from under her finger, the silk tearing as wet silk is want to do. “Ohhh.”

“Go, wash it.” Chat nodded to the sink she had in the corner as he stepped back from her. Once she had moved, he turned off the machine before twisting the screw that held the needle in place. He he listened to her gasp as the water hit it, while he studied the offending sliver of steel. The tip looked intact- it hadn't broken off.

He looked up, Marinette had turned on the lights around her mirror, looking at the punctures. She looked a little pale as she pressed her fingers to the injury. He poked the needle into her pin cushion, before going to her, holding her shoulder. “Princess, are you going to pass out?”

“Stop, you stupid cat. This is no time for flirting.” Marinette shuddered- that came out a lot more Ladybug than she wanted. “Do you do that with every woman?”

Chat silently picked up a cotton makeup pad, wrapping it around her fingertip, holding down. It was nearly a moment before he spoke. “I don't.”

His voice sounded almost awed. But as he racked his mind, he realized he didn't. He had called Marinette 'Princess' when she'd help him with a possessed Nathaniel. And his Lady. But other than sometimes referring to Alya as 'the girl with the blog' or 'the ladyblogger', and riling up an Akuma, he never called any women by anything but their name or an honorific. He blinked a little. And he never flirted. Never. Ever. He remembered trying to look strong for Marinette, flexing and posing, but.... he was just trying to reassure her. Marinette was... well, Marinette. She could go from brave and bold to stumbling and skittish in seconds. And he'd flirted with her.

He had flirted with Marinette. He'd called her Princess. Not like he did with his Lady. “You're the only civilian I”ve ever flirted with. I'm sorry.”

“oh.” Marinette felt her face blaze crimson. Her finger was going to stop bleeding the easy way- all the blood in her body was flowing into her face. “Really?”

“Yeah. Not even the girl who runs the Ladyblog. Besides, she has a guy, Ladybug set them up. I see them together.” Chat tossed the sodden cloth in the sink, grabbing a fresh one. He raised his green eyes to her. “There.. looks like you've almost stopped bleeding. Do you need me to take you to the hospital?”

She drew her hand back from his, holding the cloth tightly with her hand. She shivered. His eyes. They were even more intense without her mask on. “Did the needle break?” He shook his head. “Ok.. good. It isn't....” Marinette blushed anew- her tongue was tied. “Mean. Done before this.... I'm stitched... oohhh....”

Chat frowned. Maybe there really was something wrong with Marinette. But he couldn't tell her as Chat; he'd try to talk to Nino and Alya tomorrow at school. “You've done this before?” He smiled as she whimpered and nodded. That made sense- his father's fingers had scars from sewing machines when he'd first started. “OK. But I want you to take care of that. You're one of my favorite civilians.”

“I... I will. You should go, it's late.” Marinette wrapped a couple more of the make up pads around her finger. It was going to be really sore in the morning. She looked up as he walked towards the opening to the roof. “Chat Noir?”

“Yes, Purrrincess?”

That name again! And a cat pun. At the same time. He was going out of his way to make her blush. “Said you Alya and Nino seen... I mean... you said you've seen Alya and Nino?”

“Alya, she runs the Ladyblog? Yeah, I've seen her and the boy who'd been Bubbler out quite a few times, it looked like dates.” He felt his tail twitching a little. He didn't check up on his friends just because they were friends and he was a bored superhero with too much energy. Something was going on at their school- nearly every akuma had a tie to it. “I check up on everyone who's been akumatized.”

Marinette blinked hard. “That's a lot of people. Thank you. For checking on them. And finger my for.” She groaned.

He looked back over his shoulder with his trademark grin. “It was my pleasure. I only hope next time, you're more careful."

And with that, he sprang out the door, landing on the roof with a thud. He closed the trapdoor, then he was gone. Marinette watched his sillouette landing on the roof of her school, giving one last wave. Then he was gone, disappearing into the shadows.

“Owwwwww..... This really stings.”

Tikki dashed from under her hiding place. Seeing Marinette hurt herself wasn't that uncommon, but this had been a special kind of injury. But she hidden deep anyway- Chat had sharp eyes. Even if Plagg with his human was beautiful. “Oh, Marinette. I'm so sorry, but Chat was...”

“It's ok, Tikki. He's not completely worthless.” Marinette sat on her chaise. “Is there anything you can do with it?”

Tikki leaned in, kissing it. “Thats all, sweetie.”

“Its ok. I've done this before. But the stuttering. With Chat now, to?” She flomped back on the firm pad of the chaise. “Really?”

“It was the pain. You'll be ok as Ladybug.” She smiled reassuringly up at her charge, then giggled. "It's just Marinette who has a type."

Marinette rolled over, not wanting to look at her kwami. She didn't have "a type". She didn't. She didn't.

It was at that moment that she realized something. She didn't have pants on. She'd been sewing rather than sleeping and it was too hot for pajamas. She turned redder than Ladybug as she bit down a pillow, screaming. She'd been wearing just a tshirt and panties while Chat had been in her room.

\--- LBCN ---

Chat Noir made sure all the windows were black before he landed on the sill outside his bedroom. He peered in, making sure no one was in his bedroom before he pushed the window open. He flopped on his bead gracelessly. “Plagg, claws in”

“Ugh! About time!” He zipped off towards his cheese stash. “I need more camembert- we should have picked some up when we were out.”

“Tommorrow, you glutton.” Adrien didn't bother to look at his kwami. “Plagg? Can I be attracted to more than one person?”

“Sure!” There was gulp next to Adrien's ear. “Why, you like the little tailor girl?”

“I don't know.... Why did I flirt with her?”

“Maybe you like her. Or you could have a type.”

Adrien thought about it before rolling over on his side. "I don't have a type, there is no one else like Ladybug." _Then I like Marinette._

Plagg watched the back of his human's head with a smug grin. This was going to be hilarious when these two kids figured it out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I grew up sewing. Not the most common skill for a guy, but I have repaired, modified, rebuilt, recovered and created from the ground up more field gear than I can count. I've never done this, but my mother has a few times, and any machine that can do four or five layers of Cordura could probably drive a needle into bone. Keeps me very, very careful. And my heaviest work, I do by hand and work them like a cobbler would with a needle and sewing awl. 
> 
> And I like older machines. Ones I can rebuild, with steel guts.


	14. Trick of the Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OK. As much as I hate putting "trigger warnings" on stuff, this one was made to hurt. 
> 
> Hurt bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “‘Know thyself?’ If I knew myself, I’d run away.” – Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
> 
> "You spend years trying to protect them. And then, one day, your children protect you. How does that happen?" - the author's mother
> 
> "It is my nature to be kind, gentle, and loving.... But know this:  
> When it comes to matters of protecting my friend, my family, and my heart. Do not trifle with me.  
> For I am also the most powerful and relentless creature you will ever know."  
> — Unknown

It was a typical saturday afternoon. The store was packed solid. Among the shoppers were Marinette and Sabine.

There was a shrieking, enraged screaming laugh, one Marinette had heard too many times. She would remember pushing her mother down behind a display, just as a shockwave of energy left the Akuma.

She wouldn't remember falling, dazed. She would remember looking at her mother. Sabine had been wearing jade green. Now she was wearing red.

She would remember her kwami flitting from the ruined purse. She would remember the horrified look in Tikki's eyes. And the look in her mother's eye.

Marinette wouldn't remember saying it. If she said it. She _shifted_ into Ladybug, stepping over her mother.

She wouldn't remember the Akuma's name. She didn't banter. She didn't taunt. She wouldn't remember the first punch. Or the second. Or the fiftieth. She wouldn't remember her hand hurting. She didn't remember the thing. It was small and heavy, and it fit in her hand.

Maybe she didn't use it like Tikki intended.

Maybe she did.

She wouldn't remember cleansing the butterfly.

She wouldn't remember throwing the object, calling the swarm.

Ladybug disappeared into the swarm. She didn't comfort the citizen that less than a minute before had been a monster.

The cure returned the store to normal. Returned Sabine Cheng to normal. Sabine was unhurt. She looked around, confused.

Across the distance, she sees the hero of Paris.

Ladybug looks at the akuma again, a glare she has never given the person who'd been changed. She looks at Sabine again, her eyes filled with anguish, then throws her yo-yo. Disappearing.

Sabine starts to cry. She doesn't remember what happened, but she knows it... wasn't good. Maybe she shouldn't want to remember. The first tear reaches her jaw as her daughter slams into her, hugging her so hard it hurts. Marinette is bawling like she hasn't in years.

As much as she'd sometimes wanted to understand what happened inside her mother's head, she never wanted to see her mother's brain.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This agonizing short was primarily an experiment in tone and technique- I was looking for it to be almost etherial, an out of body experience rather than immersing you in the character.
> 
> I hope Hawkmoth got enough feedback that his teeth were loosened.
> 
> And even after getting spooked by Sabine, I'm pretty sure that if someone harmed Marinette's parents Tikki would be most displeased.
> 
> This wasn't intended to be a rebuttal to AmyNChan's Smile. But it ended up being such. I still think her's is the more painful piece, for a number of reasons; she says mine is worse. I invite you to read it if you haven't http://archiveofourown.org/works/5962138. 
> 
> And then consider that she's been invited to do a pierce that combines them both in the same backstory.


	15. Reading In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To "read in" is a term of art that is applied to information so sensitive that you are handed a file folder full of hardcopy and covered in the most dire of warnings. Secrets so great, that you aren't told them, you read the documentation. Usually alone. In silence. You can't take notes. It is something of a ritual, in part to be sure that the new member of the group has received the word in whole and without interpretation, and in part to impress upon them this is quite literally "eyes-only". From that moment, you are "read in" on this subject. You are part of a very small, very select number of people who know the secret. Secrets that often expand your world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set just a few hours after the last chapter. Sabine doesn't know what happened, and Marinette has to play dumb and wishes she didn't have to remember. The worst of it is that Tikki... well... She has too many secrets, but not so many they can solve eachother. Not yet at least.

Tikki took a deep breath.

Today had been... bad. She'd never been that close to Marinette, they'd been able to merge without Marinette calling for the transformation. Tikki _liked_ the call, but it didn't have to be said. It just had to be thought hard enough, and needed. Today they'd been perfectly in synch.

For all of the wrong reasons. It had been bad. Tikki had seen plenty of dead humans- she never got used to it, but it shouldn't have shaken her that way. She'd seen Chosen die before they could transform, sometimes her own, or when she couldn't maintain it any more. She'd even seen dead kwami. There were once hundreds of them, but time comes to all things. Today had been the time that she wanted to punish a human. That was why the Lucky Charm had been what it was- Tikki wasn't sure it was possible to kill an Akumatised human any more than you could one being ridden by a Kwami, but she knew you could hurt one.

Today had been bad. She really wanted to talk to Plagg, but she couldn't. She needed to see him. Or Trixx, her best friend would do in a pinch, but it wasn't the same as her partner. Marinette was still numb. 

The red kwami was numb to. She liked Sabine. Marinette's mother would have been a good Chosen if their paths had crossed in a similar manner at that age. Not as skilled, but still good. And she'd kept silent even though she knew Marinette's secret. Tikki suspected that she and Tom had figured it out some time ago, and that should never have happened, but it meant that Tom and Sabine were ok.

Tikki took another breath, and phased through the wall.

Tom was wrapped around his wife, physically shielding her as they slept. Tikki perched on the edge of what she guessed was Tom's dresser, watching them. She'd watched humans sleeping, but she'd never watched someone other than her Chosen or their children. This was dangerous, they might wake up and see her. She couldn't reveal herself, but she had to be sure Sabine was safe.

She'd died, and Tikki's horror had only fueled Marinette's to a level she didn't think the two of them were capable of. There was only so long a person could be dead before Tikki couldn't bring them back. It was more than just Sabine, others had died to.

Marinette could have died, to.

This was the first time an Akuma had been lethal. Hawkmoth was either getting desperate, or he was losing control of the Akuma. Both scared her, but she couldn't tell Marinette, she was still not in good shape.

Tikki stiffened as she realized something. Tom's eyes were open. He was looking right at her.

She swallowed. She couldn't even meow. She gave a tiny wave and hoped for the best. All she could do was hope her fears did not apply to Marinette's parents as she had come to believe.

Tom blinked hard, like he wasn't sure he was really seeing what he was seeing. But after a moment, he had to know he wasn't dreaming. Tikki was sure he wasn't as his lips moved. The rather amazing mustache made it harder to read his lips, but Tikki could make out the words. _Thank you, Red. For both of them._

Tikki shivered. Never had a Chosen's family known like this. The part that scared Tikki is that she wasn't scared. But it did make her existence more complicated in many ways. Perhaps it would simplify it as well.

Tikki smiled as she watched Tom Dupain slip back into sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now Tikki knows for sure. She know the only one who doesn't know that her parents know is Marinette. 
> 
> Expect the next chapter in a few days.


	16. Burden of Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alya practices her language skills. Sometimes your silence must be circular, as you speak around the truths that you can not give to voice to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are going to be short for a bit

Alya tapped her pencil against the tabletop angrily. She knew... things. Things she had to share, but she couldn't. And without Marinette to distract her, all she could do was stare at the empty bench before her and worry. Marinette hadn't been in school again today. The why was one of those things that Alya knew and didn't want to and she wished Marinette was here.

Last night she'd shut down the comments and forum on the Ladyblog. There were all kinds of rumors going about around about what people were calling the Three Minute Akuma, or Shockwave. There were witnesses that said that Ladybug had beaten the Akuma half to death and left. There had been people wondering if Ladybug had gone to far, or maybe that she'd lost control. A lot of people were wondering if their hero wasn't as much of a hero as they thought. She'd had to lock and delete a lot of those threads when they devolved into flat out screaming fests.

But first Alya'd tried to calm people. She'd reminded people that the rumors were that this Akuma had killed people. Ladybug had been pressed for time, she had to stop this Akuma more immediately than most given that it had show up in the middle of a crowd and was literally exploding. The following arguments had locked, deleted and users banned for violating the “no politics” rule.

Then Alya pointed out that given how soon as Ladybug had shown up, she was probably in the store. Maybe not alone, but with her loved ones. What if one of the people who'd been wounded, or even killed, had been a member of her of her family. A parent. Or a child. That was when the blog blew up- one of the fangirls had suggested maybe the reason they hadn't seen Chat Noir was because he'd been there and he was dead. After two hours of pandemonium, Alya had posted that due to unprecedented traffic, they were going to have to shut down the forum and comments. Then she went to bed and cried.

It hadn't helped that when she'd tried to see Marinette at lunch time, Tom told her the girl didn't want company right now. He'd handed Alya a bag of chouquettes with various fillings, reminded her to share, and with a big sigh told her that maybe tomorrow Marinette would be feeling better. Alya had almost said she knew something, but... she couldn't talk about it.

“Hey babe.”

“Hi, Alya!”

She looked up at the returning boys. “So you tried to see her to? Tom gave me chouquettes.” Alya sighed as she opened the bag. “They don't taste as good without Marinette here.”

Adrien held up a familiar looking bag. Normally he'd have been smiling a blindingly innocent smile with perfect teeth holding such a bag; today he looked heartbroken. “Petite fours and it looks like her dad is about to cry.”

Nino slipped into his chair, turning to look at his girlfriend. “Alya, you know something. Don't you?”

Alya let out a cry as she put her head on the desk. “Yes. No. I don't know!” She thumped her forehead against the surface, lacing her fingers together behind her head. “It isn't just Marinette.”

“Alya. What is it?”

“I can't tell. It's about... and I can't tell! Alright?”

Adrien swallowed hard. On one hand, maybe Alya had found out who Ladybug was. On the other, maybe Alya had something on this latest Akuma. Chat had shown up at the department store, but about ten minutes after it was all over. There was nothing for him to do, and the police had been exceptionally reluctant to speak with him. That was when he'd learned the Ladybug has brought the dead back.

That had been Saturday afternoon Since then, Chat hadn't seen her on patrol. He'd left her messages, Plagg said that she had to be getting them, but she wasn't returning them. If Chat was worried, Plagg seemed... not himself. Adrien had had to remind his Kwami to eat, and the cat god not only hadn't complained about paroling but he'd complained to Adrien that he needed to go out and look for Ladybug. When he woke up this morning, he'd caught his friend nervously chewing on his tailtip- Plagg not being Plagg told him something was wrong.

Adrien looked the huddled form of Alya. She looked up with haunted eyes. They burned into him. “I wish I had a way to tell Chat Noir that he has to see something that I have. That would mean I only had _one_ problem to deal with right now. But I can't just say 'hey, Chat Noir, knock on my window tonight, I've got something to show you' on the blog, now can I? He doesn't even know where I live, I'd have to put my address on the message and if I put it on the blog I'd have freaks from all over the world flying in to stalk me.”

Adrien leaned back against the edge of his desk. _Why was she looking at me like that? Does... does she know? How can she know? She doesn't know. She can't know. She doesn't know, that would be impossible._

But there was something that Adrien did know- where Alya lived.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you think she would forget what she'd learned? Even if she tried?


	17. Blessing of Knowledge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alya has been distraught. She knows... something. But what is it? Sometimes knowledge is a curse among curses. The only way to cure it is to spread the wealth.
> 
> Another shorty. I"m experimenting with the form.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one sucked to write. It took a lot of struggling on my part to decide what and how to show.

Alya was still waiting at ten. She kept look at the time on her phone, on her watch, on her clock, wondering if she'd been wrong. Every so often she'd look at the sheets of water running down her window from the rain. She was starting to think she was wrong. But she'd come to the conclusion on three separate occasions that Model Boy looked just like Chat Noir. It had to be him, unless there was a hidden Agrest son that no one knew about. Or a body double- which, honestly, she wouldn't put past Gabriel, but...

 She jumped at the tapping on her window. Green eyes peered back from the darkness while a gloved hand waved in the light cast from the room. Alya smiled for the first time in several days, pushing the window open

 “Ah! Finally, right address! You have no idea how hard it is to find someone when all you have is a name- there are a lot of Alyas in Paris.”

 “Get in out of the rain! Have you seen Ladybug?”

 Chat tumbled into the room and started to shake himself off, then stopped, looking around until he saw a towel hanging over the old fashioned radiator. He pointed at it, and didn't speak until Alya nodded. As he started to dry his hair he spoke. “Nothing since the thing at the store. I figured if anyone else would know where she was, it would be her second biggest fan. Someone told me you know what happened.”

“Wait, what? If I'm the second biggest fan, who's her biggest?”

“I am.” Combing his fingers through his hair, Chat's eyes roamed the room. 

"Fair enough." Alya collapsed into her chair, turning to face her computer. “I... I know a few things. I can't tell you who my source is, but someone gave this to me.”

 “Gave you what?”

 “Security camera footage.” Anonymously contributed footage was something of a tradition on the Ladyblog, but she hadn't posted this. She hadn't told anyone _what_ she had. Only Nino and Adrien knew she had _something_. “So... how did you know to come here?”

 Chat Noir looked at his friend. He felt a little dirty lying to her, and he know she had a finely tuned sense for deception. He'd have to use the truth to lie. “I know Adrien. He has a way to reach me in an emergency, and he told me you had something to show me. And that you needed help with whatever it was.”

 _Oh, I know you know Adrien._ Alya watched him from the corner of her eye as she opened a computer file. “Do you have a strong stomach? This made me puke a little.”

Alya lets the video run for a bit before pausing. “You can see the girl who got akumatized here.” She tapped the screen with a fingertip. “This is her sister, and the boy with the sister left the girl that got turned to sleep with her sister. That is what set her off.” Alya clicked to open up a second video. She scaled through the second until they were at the same point in time. “They have multiple cameras, they cover almost the whole store but there are some blind spots. Down here... Down here is my best friend, Marinette. This is her mother, Sabine.” The pointer circled the area where the Dupain-Chengs where.

Chat put on his best innocent face. “Yeah, I've met your friend. She was there?” This explained why Marinette had been out. He'd heard the rumors about this Akuma, seen the insane posts on the forum.

Alya hit play for both of the videos. In one window, you could see the Akuma transforming. Laughing. In the other video, Marinette and Sabine were slipping out of screen, just as a shockwave ripped from the Akuma. There was a gap between the cameras, but he could see... oh... that was... that was blood. A lot of blood splashed across the floor with what looked like a scalp with short hair from where Mari and Sabine left the video. It came to rest, the part of the face attached to that scalp staring up. Chat felt his dinner of perfectly prepared tuna steak and steamed rice and asparagus rise in his throat as he recognized Sabine Dupain-Cheng's face. “What...”

Alya paused the two videos. “I think... I think my friend died. I can't put this on the blog. It would... would...” Alya dissolved into tears, throwing herself around Chat. He could only purr softly and stroke her back. “I haven't seen her since this happened. She doesn't want to see anyone. I don't know what happened and her dad looks like he's about to burst into tears when I go over to try and I....”

Chat took one hand off his friend's back, reaching for the mouse. He clicked play on the video with the Akuma. Ladybug stepping into the video, her back to it. He could see her call of the Lucky Charm, and it fell into her hand. Onto her fingers. He'd never seen anything like that come out as a Lucky Charm- this didn't take any imagination. Spiky brass knuckles really didn't need directions. He couldn't look away as Alya cried against his suit, watching in stuttering black and white as blow after blow rained down on the Akuma. The camera only seemed to capture about four frames a second. He was counting. He stopped at a hundred and the hits kept coming.

Mari and Sabine had died right in front of Ladybug. LB had said that Marinette was her friend when she'd asked him to protect her from Nathaniel. LB's friend had be killed right in front of her. Marinette and Sabine and the girl's sister and the boy and so many others were down, not moving. Not whole. There must have been 20 dead or maimed.

Then Ladybug threw the mangled remains of the Charm into the sky, and the camera caught her disappearing into the healing swarm. But not before it had caught her face, twisted in rage, a feral expression that made Chat cringe.

Ladybug had gone to the “dark side” for a moment. Plagg had warned him that without a strong will to reign it in, a Miraculous could be the most destructive thing in the world, particularly the ring or the earrings. He'd never said that someday Adrien might have to stop her, but he knew that creation and destruction have to balance out, or creation becomes destruction, like the yeast with infinite food problem where you got more yeast than there was Earth in about a day. And he'd always thought she was the safety for him losing his mind. He was realizing that he wasn't just her bodyguard, but her mindguard. Her soulguard.

But there had also been a heartbroken sadness when she looked at where Mari and Sabine would have been. And he knew, he _knew_ that if he had to watch his friend die in front of him, along with a dozen others at least, that Akuma might get a dose of Cataclysm. He could feel the doubt and fear of himself twisting in his guts as Alya got control of her sobbing.

When she leaned back, she sniffled loudly. “I'm sorry... I got snot on your suit.”

“I know a good cleaner.” Right now he didn't feel like joking, but he had to try. He had to be consistent. “This can't go on the blog.”

“I know,” she wailed. “I know it can't, I won't put it up there. I don't want to watch people die on _my_ blog.” She laughed, a mixture of grim and hysterical as the tears slowed. “Growing up, I wanted to be a super hero. I want to be a journalist. Now... now I don't know.”

Chat reached for the box of tissues on her desk, gently cleaning the traces from her cheeks and nose. “You'd have to lie to your boyfriend a lot. But I think you could be a superhero- you were one of the toughest Akumas.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've realized that the weight of secrets is a rather unsubtle theme- that wasn't planned. Some people are really good at keeping them- these people, in my experience are usually pathological liars. Or they can hold their tongue but the price becomes too great when keeping the secrets you've been entrusted with requires that you stand by and watch people get hurt. And. You. MUST. Let. It. Happen. Because if you don't, more people will get hurt. 
> 
> Shame and guilt are internally directed hate and anger. Anger keeps you warm, hate keeps you moving. You have to use that to pick up the pieces after the disaster you allowed to happen. But when it's over... end of the day...
> 
> yeah...


	18. Guilty Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Shockwave, Marinette still isn't quite on speaking terms with her alter ego, and has been hiding from everyone. From Alya. From Adrien. From Chat. But that has to change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is literally less than two hours after the last chapter. Still very short in the aftermath of what she'd experienced.

In the darkness, Tikki pressed herself to the underside of the trap door. It would have been easy- she could phase through. But if she was here, that would leave no doubt who Ladybug was.

She could have slipped through. Adrien probably could have kept a secret. And Plagg could. But she couldn't take the chance. Tikki sighed softly.

She was still shaken by what she, they'd done. The rage of centuries of lost friends, of little girls she'd lead to their death still swirled in her. She'd let it out. Just a tiny sliver of it. She'd taken it personally, but she always did. This time, she'd been able to bring someone she liked back.

But she really needed to talk to Plagg. To hold him and be held. Marinette was sweet, but she'd been traumatized in this as well. That last Akuma, seeing her mother die so violently, it had shaken her charge to the core. She'd tried to tell Marinette that it was both of them. That a lot of it was Tikki. Fortunetly, Marinette seemed to be blocking out the worst of it.

Tikki rolled over, glancing down at her Chosen. Marinette had needed a few nights to sleep. Not telling her father what had happened stressed the girl. But not as badly as if Marinette learned Tikki had been seen.

Tikki jumped at the sound of the chair scraping above her. Foot steps. She dashed to the corner of the window, watching their partner bound away on his staff.

Behind her, Marinette mumbled in her sleep. Hopefully tonight she was having another version of _that_ dream- Marinette seemed to have a regular schedule for dreams about Adrien or Chat Noir. Hopefully they could both comfort her tonight.

LBCN

Marinette glared at the spotted menace before her. Even as she thought the words, she knew she didn't mean it. But in a way, she did.

Ladybug glared back, her arms crossed. “Mom died! What did you want me to do? Wait for Chat? People were dying Marinette, you think I wasn't in control?”

“You weren't. We- I wasn't.” Marie pulled at her pigtails. “You know what I mean.”

“I know you wanted to _hurt_ Hawk Moth. So did I. SO did Tikki. But we were in control, or the Cure wouldn't have worked and Mom would still be dead. Mom got hurt and Dad's a mess- what if she'd died? What if I hadn't saved her?”

“I had to make you stop!” Marinette wanted to slap her alter ego. Slap her like she wanted to slap very few people. She jumped at the voice behind her.

“It was you and Tikki both, bug. I've got something that will really mess with you- your mother saw your kwami. She isn't stupid, you know.”

Ladybug was gone. Marinette looked down at her hands. Just a second ago, she'd been talking to Ladybug, and now she was transformed. She turned to the voice. “Chloe. What are you doing here? And why are you dressed like.. that?”

Her nemesis posed teasingly. “What, this old thing? I don't know- I'm a figment of your imagination.” The black glove ran down a yellow torso. It was a suit, like Ladybug's and so very not. It was chrome yellow and space black for one thing, and had wings folded flat against Chloe's back. Of course. Chloe got to fly. Because she's Chloe. “But you know how I feel about the Ladybug and the Bee...”

Marinette stiffened as her arch enemy leaned in, stroking her cheek. She could smell Chloe's gum. Those eyes, they were getting closer. And the lips. Soft. Sweet tasting. Marinette squealed at the kiss, warm and curious and short.

She looked at Chloe. And leaned closer.

LBCN

Marinette looked in the mirror. Maybe she'd try school today.

Maybe not.

“Really Marinette? I know leggy blonds are your type, but Chloe?” Tikki studied her Chosen carefully. Was just a masochistic flash that spawned that idea? Or was it a flash of insight? The bee could certainly be useful against Hawkmoth, and she had a way of training Chosen that needed to fix their lives.

But even Chloe didn't deserve the penalty when she failed to live up the standards placed on a Bee. That _that_ girl could even be akumatized was a sign the world had a sense of irony, but that she might even be able to weild a Miraculous... No. No. That would have been too much. It had to be a dream.

She looked at her Marinette again. They both grinned as they spoke as one. “”Chloe. BLEEAAKKKK!”

They giggled as Marinette pushed her roof hatch open. It hadn't rained for a few days, the plants needed to be watered. She pulled herself up through the doorway. She froze. Someone had been here. She could see the note under the plant- it hadn't been there last night.

Cautiously, she pulled it free. She read it. She sagged, starting to cry again. She'd been doing that a lot and she hated it. But... but... “Tikki? Did you hear Chat stop by last night?”

For a moment the kwami contemplated lying. “Yes, but only for a few minutes and then he was gone. Why?” It wasn't really a lie. The boy had been up there for half an hour, but for kwami thirty minutes was still only a few.

“He left a note.” Marinette wiped her eyes before pushing herself off the edge and landing in her bed. “I need to go to school today.”

"YAY!! I"m so glad, Marinette."

Mareinette glanced at her friend. "Why?"

"Because there is a lot you still don't know, Marinette. And it will do you good to see your friends." Ladybug had to stay a secret. That was why Tikki couldn't say, _I need to see my kitty._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is also going to start on Chat's perspective and just a few minutes before he wrote the note. It was going to be one chapter with this one, but the timing was clumsy.
> 
> BTW, blame the Chloenette on SiderealSandman. One of his works sold me on it, but ChloeNath I have much more investment in.


	19. Resolve to Stand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette has been tested by the Three Minute Akuma, Shockwave. Alya has been tested by the knowledge of the unblinking witness. And Adrien... he's just being tested by all of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter starts at the start of the prior one. Just a few bits of wood and steel and insulation separate the two, parting Tikki from her kitty. So now, my faithful readers, you get to see what was on that note that made Marinette decide to go to school.

Chat sat back in the lawn chair in the little roof garden. This space felt like Marinette. Which made sense. It was his Princess' roof garden. He wasn't sure what to say. He'd been trying to find the words for at least an hour. He'd steeled his nerve and peaked in through her window- she was asleep.

He didn't want to wake her. Chat thought back on the times he'd heard his classmates saying stupid things about him. Some of it hurt, others... he was her bodygaurd. He was the scout. And sometimes he was the muscle. But Marinette always stood up for Chat Noir, saying Ladybug was less effective without him, that she couldn't do the job without her partner. Never a sidekick. Given the realization he'd had less than hour ago about his Lady, that his Princess could put so much faith into him made him feel lighter.

He had found a pencil on the roof, and an empty seed packet. He peeled the envelope open. He thought he had the words.

_Princess. Marinette._

_I'm sorry that you and your mother were hurt. That you died. I can't tell you how sorry I am that I wasn't able to prevent that. It never should have happened. But Ladybug was able to save you. I'm glad she has you for a friend, and that you are her's. Right now she needs a friend as loyal as you. I'm sorry I didn't tell you in person, but I didn't want to wake you. I hope you find this note in the morning._

_Sincerly,  
Chat Noir_

Chat placed the note in the chair, then moved a plant to sit on it, before leaping off the roof.

LBCN

Chat Noir slipped through the open window to his bedroom. He tossed the thumbdrive on his desk, before calling off the transformation. He wasn't sure if things in the pocket of his suit would be there later. “Hey, want some cheese?”

“Nah. Can we go out again? Please?” Plagg knew they'd been close. If only... If only Tikki wasn't so afraid of letting her girls reveal themselves. If only the baker-tailorgirl wasn't so nervous.

“Plagg! You haven't been eatting. You're going to get sick. I know you're worried about Ladybug, but you're not going to help her if we can be Chat Noir. I have half a mind to turn you over to Sifu Fu. Do I call him in the middle of the night, or will you eat something?” Adrien yawned so wide his jaw popped. "And I need to sleep."

“Yeah, sure, that would be good.” The kwami groaned as he flopped down on the desk, spinning the dirve around “What did your snoopy friend find?”

Adrien dug into the minifridge, taking out a quarter wheel of Camembert. “Are you sure you want to see it?” Adrien still wasn't used to the smell of this stuff, but it was what powered his partner. Plagg wasn't his normal space black self; instead he was the not-quite-black grey of of a shadow on asphalt. Adrien honestly wasn't sure who he was more worried about, Plagg or Ladybug. He'd had one of his twice-a-week “language lessons” with his tutor yesterday, and despite was Sifu Fu had said he was pretty sure the Gaurdian was as worried as he was.

“Yeah, I should.” He took the offered cheese, nibbling it disinterestedly as Adrien woke up his computer and slipped in the drive. It took his boy a few minutes to get the two videos both on their own screens and tied together so he could control them together. As the movies started rolling, Plagg grunted. “Hey. Your little friend is there.”

“Her name is Marinette. And that is her mother. They... just watch.”

Plagg watched. He was pretty sure that Adrien had forgotten he was more than just a magical kitty cat. But as the god of chaos and destruction, he was also the godfather of plauge and the mentor of disaster. Plagg had seen every way that a human could die. And he flinched at the blood- for a moment he feared he knew why neither Ladybug nor her alter ego had been seen. Then there she was, in a fury. Feral. Dangerous. Plagg's eyes got wide as Ladybug laid into the possessed human.

And wider.

And wider.

He was silent as he watched Ladybug drop the bloodied form of the Akuma to the floor. Plagg didn't notice as the pawful of cheese plopped on the desk.

Then Ladybug's swarm obscured the camera. And there was no more blood. There was no pain. There was no more shattered bodies or store fixtures. Only confused people and a sobbing young woman.

He threw his head back and took the rest of the cheese in a gulp. “Kid! We need to wake up the old man.”

“I have a lesson with him tommorrow.”

“You're pretty enough. He needs to see this more than you need more beauty sleep.”

“OK. Let me leave Natalie a note. Good thing my father is away.”

Gabriel had left town on Sunday, heading to an exclusive spa for what was officially termed “rest and relaxation” after an unspecified ailment. But Adrien had seen him, heard the story about tripping on the stairs. Gabriel had had a swollen and purple-black nose, two black eyes, a split lip, and what looked like a chipped tooth. Gabriel would be out of the limelight while this was repaired. It was odd, Adrien couldn't remember his father ever tripping over anything. So when it finally happened, he'd bounce down the stairs. Adrien had never seen his father fall over before. Trip once or twice, but he'd always recovered with the grace and dignity of a cat.

“You really should pack a bag- we might be there all night and you've got school in the morning.”

Adrien nodded, typing up an email on his computer. _“Natalie- I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep. I went for a run, I'll change at school. Don't tell my Dad. Please?”_

Adrien set the timer for that email to send itself at five, then put the thumbdrive in his pocket. “Plagg? What are you doing”

The kwami threw a randomly selected shirt into the pile of clothes. “Change of clothes.”

As worried as Adrien had been with a mopey Plagg that didn't want cheese, the feeling he felt seeing a helpful Plagg was one he hadn't felt in a long time.

The last time, his father was being led away by police to be questioned after his mother disappeared.

Plagg randomly tossed a tinned camemberts on top of the pile. “Lets go! Say it.”

LBCN

Adrien sat in one of the chairs in Sifu Fu's garden, glaring at his still giggling kwami. A simple tap on the glass hadn't been enough to wake up his tutor and mentor. But it had been enough to wake up Wayzz. The turtle kwami could scream like an air raid siren. “It isn't funny Plagg.”

“Are you kidding? I just wish I'd been able to see it. You fell off the roof, didn't you. Admit it! I can see the plants. Admit it!. Chat Noir fell off the roof.”

The deceptively small form of Sifu Fu openned the door. “Come in, Chat Noir. Plagg, I know that Adrien would have not disturbed me in the middle of the night- this was your idea.”

“Yeah. The kid wanted to wait until his lesson this afternoon, but you need to see this.”

Wayzz floated up to his ancient friend's level. “She will come out in due time. The Ladybug Kwami is often reclusive.”

“Tikki is going to be going out of her wits!” Plagg just watched as the turtle flinched. “What? You think the kid is going to figure it out by learning her name? Kid- no, not you, the other kid, Fu! You _need_ to see this.”

"Plagg! You're being paranoid! This is utterly-"

“Enough, both of you. Tikki can be over cautious. Chat Noir, if you have a piece of knowledge that you feel I should know?” Fu's head tilted a little. He knew of the boy's infatuation with the girl, and that she was perhaps the stiffest stickler for Tikki's rule about revealing identities. “You didn't see her transform, did you?”

“No, sir. But...” He pulled the flash drive from his pocket, holding it out. “You need to see this.”

Fu stroked his beard, looking at the small device. “If a hero of the stature of Chat Noir is so insistent, perhaps the Jade Turtle should watch and listen.”

Fu plucked the drive from Adrien's fingers and turned to back inside. It was the first time the boy had ever been lead upstairs by the Gaurdian. It was spare and neat as the ground floor, other than the slightly cluttered desk a type writer on it. Behind it was an even more cluttered desk and a powerful gamer's laptop. Maybe not cutting edge, but still more powerful than most on the market. Shelves loaded with books and binders and many, many clearly organized movies and albums of music, both on CD and vinyl, lined the walls. “Wow.”

“When you reach my age, your hobbies are mostly remembrances. I”ve been working on my music collection for nearly a hundred years. But now is not the time to gape- you said so yourself.”With a soft huff, Fu settled into his desk chair, Wayzz and Plagg coming to perch on his shoulders.

“Sifu Fu, it's the file named-”

“I seem to have found it. Feel free to sit on the other desk.” With those words, Fu let the video run. Adrien didn't have to watch for a third time.

“Tell me, young Adrien. Who here do you know.”

“The asian woman and her daughter, they went out of view just before the explosion. The girl is Marinette, she goes to school with me. She's a friend. And Ladybug told me they are friends as well.”

Fu slid back through the recording. Marinette Dupain-Cheng's presence had jumped out him. He didn't look at the young man. “She told you this?”

“Back when we were starting, when Nathaniel was Akumatized and became the Evilstrator. Ladybug told me she had a secret mission, I'm guessing from you, and asked me to watch over Marinette until she could return.” _I need you to protect this girl instead. Her name is Marinette. She's my friend. Really cute, isn't she?_

“Ahh... and what is she to Chat Noir? Have you paid her a visit since then?” The chair turned slowly, letting him watch the boy from the corner of his eye.

“It wasn't planned. I was doing a solo patrol and I heard screaming at her home and she'd hurt herself and I helped I'm a hero and she's a damsel and she was in distress and she hasn't been in class since this happened and-” Adrien clenched his mouth shut when he realized he was babbling. “And given how quickly she was there, Ladybug must have been right there. Her friend died right in front of her."

"And how did you come into possession of this? This hasn't been released to the media, not even the Ladyblog has this."

Adrien looked down. He wasn't sure he could bluff the old man if his eyes could be seen. "It won't. Alya, the girl who runs the blog, she goes to school with me. She doesn't know who I really am, but I had a feeling she had something so Chat Noir knocked on her window. And she is Marinette's best friend. She'd dating _my_ best friend, Nino. So Chat Noir asked one of his biggest fans if she had anything she hadn't told anyone and she gave me.... that. She said it would never been on her blog."

Fu's face became even more serious. Inside, he wanted to laugh. This boy, this brilliant boy, was unable to see through the glamor right in front of him. And he hadn't caught Tikki and Plagg. That meant that only someone worthy of the Fox could still see through the disguise. After a moment to comport himself with the seriousness of the immediate situation, he spoke. “And Plagg, I understand why you are concerned.”

“I'm worried about Tikki. She's hiding, even from me.”

“And you were hoping that I could draw her out. Wayzz, I know that you distrust electronics, but you could learn Plagg's trick for talking to cellphones.”

With a groan, the little green sprite floated off. “Plagg, lets use the kitchen. I need to eat before I try that.”

Adrien shook his head as the two sprites floated off. “She is getting my messages.”

“I think she'll listen to me.” Master Fu studied the boy. “You haven't slept, have you.”

“No sir. That is why I brought my bag- I left a note for Natelie, she will think that I went for a run before school and will change and shower there.”

“Ah, that is why you brought your school bag and that other one. A hero always thinks ahead, layering his plans.”

“Actually, sir, it was Plagg's idea. He saw the video and he became... manic. Is he okay?”

“He will be soon enough. He knows more than he will say, but he and Ladybug's kwami have been together for millennium without count. I doubt any language has a way of explaining their connection, we don't last long enough.”

Adrien looked down, blushing. “He loves her.”

“Yes.”

Shapes of thought, vague and heavy, swirled around Adrien's mind, but were cut off as he yawned. “Sorry”

“You haven't slept- try the couch.”

“But-”

“But you need your sleep. Don't think about this for a few hours, let Plagg and Wayzz draw Ladybug out if she won't come out on her own. But I think we'll find she is ready. Rest easy son, you've had a busy day.”

“But... Ladybug.. Marinette.” Adrien slid to his feet as he yawned again. “Could I bring Marinette here, if she comes to school today. I don't know.... Maybe she could talk to you. I'd bring her here as Adrien.”

“Maybe. But you need to get a few hours sleep.” Fu suppressed the urge to swallow. Marinette was not commonly a guest here, but if she and Adrien should meet here there would be awkward questions, but so far he'd been able to keep that from happening. The question of how to keep Adrien's good intentions from complicating things without looking like that was exactly what was happening was starting to trouble Fu.

It would simplify his life those two would reveal themselves.

\--LBCN--

Adrien was the first of his friends to arrive at school. He'd already sent a text to one, asking her to get there a few minutes early. So he was waiting on the steps when the limo pulled to the curb. He was ready for the predatory cry followed by a leap.

“Morning, Chloe.” He gently extracted himself from her grasp. He grinned the satellite that had folowed her. “Hi Sabrina”

“Adrikins! You look horrible, what did you do? You need something for those eyes, I think I have something in my makeup bag.” She held her hand out to Sabrina who was already digging in Chloe's bag.

“I'm fine, Chloe. I need a favor.”

Chloe grinned up him. “Anything from my Adri-chou, you know that.”

“This is serious.” He reached out, putting his hands on her shoulders. “I mean it.”

Chloe cringed. He was wearing his Gabriel face. She'd never call it that to Adrien's face, but he could be as stern and ice cold as his father. And he'd been doing it a lot recently- it was Marinette's fault. “Ok, ok. Geez. Why are you yelling at me so much?”

“I'm not yelling, Chloe. I've told you, sometimes... you act beneath yourself. But I need you to do something for me, and I know it's going to be very hard. I need you to promise.” He gave her his best sad smile.

There was one thing about Adrien that Chloe didn't like. He still took promises seriously. It was an immature part of him, naive. She didn't believe in promises. She'd learned that the hard way. As a politician her father was supposed to lie, but the worst one he'd ever said to her was 'everything is going to be all right'. She was never 'all right', it had never been 'all right' again. Poor, poor Adrien, he still believed in them, it was something real to him. Just like when they were four and he wanted to be the knight in shining armour, a hero. And she could see in his eyes he meant it. And she wished she still could, to. She sighed, relenting to his perfect green eyes. “Tell me.”

“Lay off Marinette for a few weeks.”

The reaction was instant. Chloe's head jerked up, her eyes ablaze. “What!? I will not, that little-”

“Please Chloe. I want you to pretend to be nice. Like I know you can.”

“No.” Chloe sulked. “Anyone but-”

Adrien pressed to fingers to her lips, wearing the expression he had learned from his father. “Something... bad happened to her. Or to her mother, I'm not sure, maybe both. but it was bad.” He paused, looking into the sky blue eyes of his oldest friend. “Shower bad.”

“Her mother?” It came out as a tiny squeak. Sabrina stared as Chloe went grey under her makeup. The blond girl wilted visibly, seeming to shrink in her clothes. Her eyes closed, and she took a deep breath, shuddering as if salt had been rubbed into a flayed nerve. “What happened.”

Adirne mentioned the name of the store.

“The Three Minute Akuma.” Chloe shook her head. “OK.” She turned her head to face Sabrina's stunned stare. “I'm not an utter bitch, you know. And you,” she poked Adrien in the chest, “You owe me”

“I'll take it. Just not a word. Swear it, you'll never tell anyone.”

“I promise.” Chloe shook her hair out of her face. “I promise your mother.”

Sabrina watched silently, not sure what she was seeing. She only knew pieces, and it reminded her again that Adrien had been in Chloe's life longer than she had. In Chloe's heart.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Gabe.... Have a nice big steaming cup of feedback. Schmuck. 
> 
> As for Chloe... yeah. There is a decent human being in there. That part of her soul protects the lost little girl who still cries herself to sleep, thinking she did something wrong and that is why her mother left. In the vacuum, bitch!Chloe fills in the space.
> 
> Future chapters and a side story will look at Fu more. Like how some of that music and his time in America points to when he was a DJ. Fu Dawg. And how a quite, relaxed Wayzz is the path of a green turtle, the Jade Turtle. And an angry Wayzz was the path of Carbonemys, the Coal Turtle. The Black Turtle, judge and destroyer from Chinese myth.


	20. Emergence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the battle with the Three Minute Akuma, many things have gone to ground. Ladybug. The Ladyblog. Marinette. Plagg's sanity. But one can not hide forever. Shadows or a cocoon, they are both smaller than a world that will always be out there, and will always have more apathy than madness or heroism. Step into the light or be forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay. That pesky real world thing was kicking my hoop then with the start of Season 2 I was tempted to abandon it. But you know what.... screw it. It's always been divergent from the end of Season 1 and finding the book. I've had plans for introducing Trixx and Pollen to their respective humans, and if Nooro is a hostage and not a willing participant in the madness that is Hawkmoth, oh well. Found some new music, found some new images, did some teaching, took some time off to go back to my roots and work on some original material. 
> 
> So the title is as much about me emerging as it is Marinette. 
> 
> More will be up soon, maybe even by the end of today (11Febuary18)

“Marinette, if it's ok with you, I think I want to be in your bag today.”

Marinette glanced at her kwami. “Ok. Are you sure?” At the nod, she took the paper wrapped bundle of cookies and moved it to the bigger bag. “But you'll get poked with pens again.”

“I think I can take it.” Tikki flitted up, nuzzling her Chosen, before darting into the larger bag. She waved her paw to her human as the flap closed. 

Marinette slid it up to her shoulder before taking a last look around her room. Taking a deep breath, then a second, she slinked down the stairs to the apartment. She stopped when her mother was waiting for her. “Mom, are you ok?”

“Of course. I just came up to make sure you hadn't fallen asleep.” Sabine lips quirked into a small smile- it wasn't like that had never happened before. Then they slipped a little, and wrapped her arms around her daughter. She pressed her temple to her daughter's cheek. More than the emptiness of those minutes and the fear of what might have happened during them, she ached with the thank you she shouldn't tell to the heroine in her arms. “And I wanted to say I love you.”

“I love you, to, Mom.” She hugged back- they'd been doing that a lot, since she'd brought her mother back from the dead. And now, she had to go to school, like an ordinary girl with an ordinary life. “I don't want to be late today.”

The two women stood looking at each other- that was how Sabine thought of her daughter now. After all she had seen, Marinette was not a little girl. Although she'd always be her and Tom's little girl. Marinette's lip trembled as she studied the look in her mother's eyes. She could do it now without flinching. 

They both jumped as a cry came up the stairs on the heels of the door to the bakery banging closed, “Hey girl! You done playing hide and go seek?” Alya's never dainty footstep came up the stairs, her face quickly following her sound. “Your dad said you were going to school today?”

“Alya!” Marinette didn't quite pounce her friend, but quickly folded her into an embrace. That Alya managed to include Sabine didn't quite look like an accident. 

“Marinette, we've missed you. And you to, Mrs C.” Alya's enthusiastic embrace. 

Sabine laughed. “I don't know what you've heard, but we've been fine. Marinette's just been sick.”

Marinette squirmed free, breaking the hug. She glanced at her mother- her mother that was covering for her. It was a question she'd been asking for the past few days. Did her mother know? “Yeah... just sick, Alya. I'm fine now.”

Alya's hands took Marinette by the shoulders. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Alya. We're going to be late!,” cried Marinette, dancing around her friend and making a dash for the stairs. Her mother and Alya both, now....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, those new tunes.... I was listening to a collection as I decided to post this and flesh out what is to come, and its a pretty good example to what I listen to when writting, or during training. Music that I can get my wings into and soar on has always been key in my technique. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LcFvO6vGTX4
> 
> As for what is coming next, well, I can speak with Plagg's voice easily enough. And I haven't, not really. I've been afraid to take his perspective for more than a few lines. So... next time....


	21. Book Bag Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Tikki and Plagg reunion chapter that probably no one else wants, but I do.
> 
> Screw secrets. 
> 
> For that matter, screw cheese.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, I"m not thrilled with the title.

He knew she was coming.

That note, he wouldn't tell his human it was brilliant. But it was. It really, really was. He could predict the kind of human she could work with as well as he could predict her. It would draw her out.

His human had had an idea, just the wrong idea of timing on it. By now Wayzz would be telling Fu their new plan. That would make sure of it. This and the note were brilliant even for his kid, who he modestly estimated to be in the top tenth of a percent of human intelligence. And the bottom half of common sense.

He stopped chewing on his tail to swear an ugly, mathematically precise and internally contradictory curse. If the Girl didn't come today, Adrien could eat lunch without him, because he was going to get Tikki. Her human needed to see his and Fu and the other candidates, her friends. She needed to return to her peers.

She needed to return Tikki to him. He started gnawing on his tail again, not caring if he get bumped or banged or squished in Adrien's bag as he listened and waited.

He heard the bitter girl with the scar for a soul. That she could be a candidate didn't surprise him- only someone able to bond with a kwami could create that much trouble.

The minstrel with the ridiculous hat. He could be good.

The snoop. He liked her, she reminded him of an old friend. Trixx was as close as he'd ever had to a sibling.

The others that swirled around them. Wayzz had sworn to him before that this group, this class was not Fu's doing. It was one of those statistical flukes.

He sighed. He was brooding. He knew he was brooding, and it wasn't helping. It wasn't helping him. It wasn't helping Adrien. And it wasn't helping- _TIKKI!_

He could feel her. She was close. That was where the snoop had gone...

He shook himself. He licked his paws, smoothed his ears and his antenna and whiskers and tried to fluff up the surface of his tailtip. Tikki needed to see him as stable. If he had to look like a mess, unless Trixx was woken up, that would be restricted to Wayzz. Tikki... Tikki.... He had to be strong for Tikki.

He listened intently. They were welcoming back the Girl. He could feel the waves of relief and angst and attraction pouring off his kid. Before this crisis, he all but told his stupid Boy that he wasn't now pining after two girls, just one. It would have made the past couple days much more bearable, being able to tell the truth, and to let them see eachother's true selves.

 _Ok, ok, class is starting._ Teacher tight butt was calling the roll. He fussed with his tail- he'd put a kink in it again. “Meewwww... it's fine, deep breath.” He took his advice, taking a deep breath.

He knew this was stupid. This was dangerous. He might get caught. But Adrien was so used him sleeping that unless there was one of Noroo's monstrosities, he wouldn't notice if he was gone for a little while. Maybe even a few hours.

_Okay..._

He peaked out of the bag. No, she was even closer than the little bag the Girl wore, in the book bag. _Clever bug._

The snoop wasn't watching. That was good. He was pretty sure Adrien lied to him when he said that the snoop hadn't figured it out. Trixx's kids could see through smoke and mirrors before they got a Miraculous. The pattern was coming together again.

The Girl moved her foot. _Clear shot!_

And with that, he was gone. Through the bag. Through the tier and the leg of the desk and into the Girl's bag and her books and...

Plagg wrapped himself around Tikki. “I missed you. I wanted to come for you, but the kid...”

“Plagg....”

Something inside of the black cat twisted and clenched at the sound of despair in her voice. He'd heard that tone too many times for his liking, felt it too many times himself. “Shhh... you're safe...” He stroked her head, letting his anteanna stroke hers.

They stayed like this for a long time, even for a kwami. All he could do was hang on. He wasn't sure who he was reassuring, himself or her, but he wouldn't stop. Couldn't stop. He'd never stop.

“Plagg.”

Until she said so. He stopped babbling and looked at her. There was new strain in her eyes, swirls behind the perfectly blue eyes. “Missed you, Spots.”

Her paw came up and cupped his cheek. “I missed you to, silly Kitty.” She tilted her head slightly so their foreheads wouldn't bang together, kissing him lightly. It was a good invention by the humans. She chirred softly. “Something happened.”

“I know. The snoop has the footage. We gave it-”

“What? Alya saw?” Tikki's antenna stood straight up, quivering in alarm.

“No, she got the security camera footage. I think she told Adrien that she had something for Chat Noir and she didn't want it, and we gave it to Master Fu.”

This didn't calm Tikki in the least. “She knows who Chat Noir is! But...” She had the memory come back to her. “She promised she wouldn't tell anyone.” At the querying mewl from her partner, she explained about what Alya had told Marinette, the Ladyblogger's secret. “She won't tell anyone.”

“That's what Adrien thinks.”

“She's not the only one. Marinette's parents have seen me.”

Plagg's whiskers curled as he stared, open mouth. “You... you were seen? You?”

She smiled sheepishly to him as she wrapped herself around him again. “Shut up. They haven't told her. They just acknowledge that I'm there, but never where she can see them. The accept me... Its nice. They haven't told her they know about her secret. They're good people, they worry, but they don't interfer.”

Plagg snuggled against her. “I'll trust your judgment. But if you need me, make your kid call my kid.”

“If its bad for you boy, tell him to come to the bakery, they like him.” Tikki yawned. She hadn't been resting well, but with Plagg here... “In a few years, it won't matter. They'll be together. Kids... Everyone...” She relaxed, slipping off to sleep.

 _If they live that long. They usually don't._ Plagg just held her silently, keeping his thoughts to himself. There was a lot she hadn't told him, he could tell. Even as the first class wrapped up, he stayed with her, just holding her. If Adrien needed him for anything less than a Akuma, too bad. And if the Girl found him, his life would get simpler.

It would be like this more. Even if the universe was falling apart, right here, anywhere, with her was home. “Love you, Tikk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to make the tone of these last two work as one chapter was making me bang my head on the wall. Marinette and Plagg are very different people. Particularly when Plagg is being a little too high strung. He needs to see his Lady to be sure she's not hurt- yes, she's a big a kwami and she can take care of herself, but he's her kitty and he has to be sure.
> 
> For some reason, when I have his voice in my head, he likes to shorten Tikki to something I'm not sure how to spell, but it sounds like Teek. I spelled it Tikk so everyone could follow. And yes, it is intentional that there are patterns that repeat between LB and Chat and Tikki and Plagg. 
> 
> Next up, Plagg and Wayzz hatch a plot. A scheme. A wicked, evil plan for world- wait. Nope. That's what Nooro and Gabriel will be doing when he doesn't look like he stopped a hockey puck with his face. Plagg and Wayzz, they're just doing something sneaky and good.


	22. Reflections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently the highway to hell has toll booths. Or at least speed bumps. Gabriel needs a moment to ponder this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been stuck working on the next chapter, and I just realized we haven't heard from someone. Someone we really need to hear from. 
> 
> You might have noticed I like to start with quotes sometimes. So let me share one from T Hiddleston that I've become fond of. “If you look at all of the villains in the course of human history, they’ve all believed, delusionally, in the virtue of their actions – every villain is a hero in his own mind.”

Gabriel Agrest looked in the mirror and frowned. The nose was healing well, and he no longer looked like someone had tried to tenderize his face with a mallet. Well, not very hard. He pulled his lips back to check on the repairs on the tooth.

“You're looking better, Master.”

His eyes flicked left, looking at the little creature floating at his shoulder. Nooro had been unconscious for a day after they created Shockwave, and had been even more quiet than normal. “You still haven't told me how...” He gestured towards his face, “...this happened.”

The moth sighed. “It hasn't happened often. I think, and I must stress I think, it was because you were trying to recall the akuma. Either that, or Ladybug took it very personally.”

“I hadn't noticed.” Gabriel's voice was drier than any desert. “I think that young lady needs to learn to deal with stress better.”

Nooro smiled sadly. “Her kwami needs to deal with stress better as well. Might I suggest that we curtail our activities for a few weeks?”

Gabriel nodded, and instantly regretted. He was pretty sure he had a concussion. Every beat of his heart echoed in his head, and he could _feel_ the soundwaves bouncing back and forth in his skull.

Yes, the girl had a passion as great as his own. Pity she wasn't ready yet to give him him what he wanted of her own free will. Not yet.

 


	23. A Friend Indeed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ladybug calls on the Ladyblogger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be part of a much larger chapter, but I didn't like how this transitioned to the next scene, and I felt this was too good to throw away. We're getting there :P 
> 
> "I've always heard that when a man goes down, you do your best to pick him up." Gone Jackles, Legacy

Alya sat at her desk, debating what to do with her blog. She'd turned it back on today, and had apologized for the disruption. Her article had been about how everyone had to slow down, and think, think for themselves rather than latching onto the latest wacky idea and adding their own bit of madness to it. She was watching the the commenters feeding off each other. The conspiracy theories about where Ladybug was were running rabid and she was debating how to do damage control. She'd already started writing an article three times before she deleted what she had.

It had been so good to see Marinette today. Her friend had been almost normal, but she seemed haunted by something. Alya knew, and didn't know how to talk about it. It wasn't every day that you died and then came back to life. Adrien and Nino had both been emotionally clumsy around her. Everyone had, even if only Alya (and if she was right, Adrien) knew what had happened. Even Chloe had been nice. Not merely polite, but kind. Well, she'd tried. 'Everyone has bad days; you don't have to relive them' is what the blond had told Marinette. Where had that come from?

Alya jumped slightly at the sound of a soft tapping on her window. She'd turned off everything but the lamp at her desk, so she could see the silhouette outside. “Chat-” She threw the window open. “Ladybug! Where have you been?”

The heroine of Paris nearly threw herself at the blogger, hugging her. Alya needed a moment to recover. “Ladybug?”

“I'm sorry.” There was a messy sounding sniffle. “I don't know who I can talk to. I can't talk to Chat. Can I...”

“Yes!” Alya never realized just how short Ladybug was. Maybe it was just that Ladybug was never so.... vulnerable. “This is off the record, no interview.”

“Thank you. I was on patrol, and...” There was snerkling inhalation. “I just started crying again and I was right here and I need to talk to _someone_.”

“Is it about that last Akuma?” Alya felt the nod of a chin against her shoulder. Ladybug wasn't trying to squeeze her in half, but she really wasn't able to move.

This sniffle was even sloppier sounding than the last. “I was there. With my mother.”

Alya felt a chil running down her back. “Did she get hurt?”

There was another nod, this time with a moan. Then a shake of the head. “No.... She was killed.”

Alya hadn't been this cold since she and Manon had been under the ice. “Oh no... did... could...”

“I brought her back. With the others. But I... I.... I went to far.... I...”

Alya pushed back gently against the red and black barnacle that clung to her. “Ladybug. I want you to listen to me.” She took Ladybug's face in her hands, looking into the bright blue eyes behind the tear soaked mask. “My best friend was there with her mother. They were right in front of one of the security cameras. They....”

Ladybug gasped, her bright blue eyes wide. “Cameras?”

“I saw the footage- if you're afraid your mild mannered alter ego was caught, it wasn't. I watched it, only once. Are you worried someone might know who is under the mask?” There was nod. “You came from off screen and then you disappeared. No one but you and Chat know who Ladybug is. I gave the only copy I had of it to Chat. I don't know what he did with it.”

Ladybug drew in a shuddering breath, relaxing as she breathed it out. “There was nothing?”

“Nothing but the explosion and people dying, then you were there. Ladybug, you have to believe me- you didn't do anything wrong. Maybe you punched the akuma a few times more than was needed, but if I'd been in your suit, I wouldn't have stopped. If someone killed my mother and my dad and my sisters in front of me, I'd have never stopped.” The confession sobered Alya. She hadn't thought of that, but she knew it was true. “You're human. Maybe you're superhuman, which means that every flaw that people have in you to, just as strongly and maybe a bit more. But you're strong enough to fight the temptation, I've seen it.”

Alya watched for a bit, letting it sink in as she handed Ladybug the box of tissues. She had thought that Ladybug was a few years older at first. Despite interviews, it had never really sunk in that Ladybug was as her age, maybe a year younger. Just a girl. Under that mask was just an ordinary girl very much like her. A girl she might have walked past a hundred times, sat next to in a cafe or the metro. “You do so much for so many, and no one ever thanks you. Really thanks you.” Alya took both of Ladybug's hands in hers. “Thank you. Thank you for giving me my best friend back. Thank you for giving her her mother back. She's not quite back to normal, but... after this, I would be worried if she wasn't bothered. Just like you are- if you weren't bothered, you wouldn't be a good person.”

Ladybug freed a hand to blew her nose again. “Are you sure?”

Alya laughed softly. “Did you see my comic book collection? Even more to the point, why do you do this? I'll tell you- because someone has to. And you can do it. So you do it. Even if sometimes you hate it.”

The eyes behind the mask didn't flick to the book shelf out of sheer will power. She  _had_ seen the comic books. “But..”

“Ladybug, Chat knows me. I don't know who he is- most of the time- but he trusts me. I want you to trust me. Like you do your friends.”

Alya watched as a strange smile spread across Ladybug's face. “I... I already do. You're probably my biggest fan, and you...” Ladybug trailed off at Alya's giggle. “What?”

“Chat thinks he's a bigger fan than me. But I bet I could arm wrestle him for it.” Alya let Ladybug's giggle end. “Sounds like you haven't done that in a few days. And I swear-”

A shrill ringtone made both girls jump. Ladybug's hand slapped down on her hip. “Thats new.” She lifted her yoyo, flipping it open. “Chat?”

“My Lady! Get to Master Fu's, right now!” And he cut the call off. She felt a block of ice grow in her belly. Of course he'd know Fu, but...

Alya had sat up a little straighter when she'd heard the message. The didn't sound like the Chat she'd interviewed, or like Sunshine. “That sounded important, LB.”

“I wish he'd told me more. And...”

“This is between friends. Not a word to anyone, trust me.”

“Thanks.” Ladybug squirmed out the window and threw her yo-yo, disappearing into the night.

Alya watched the heroine of Paris, her friend, going out into the night. Chat had sounded worried, excited. She cared, that is why she was a hero, even when it hurt to care. Cold of winter, dark of night, scared, even alone, she never stopped caring. Never stopped trying to save everyone. And that told Alya what she needed to write.

She sat at her computer, and took a breath before she started to type.

_People of Paris, of all of France, listen to me...._

 


End file.
